


love locked down for you

by AtLoLevad



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Reader-Insert, Teasing, hopper's a big old softie, unrelated drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 23,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtLoLevad/pseuds/AtLoLevad
Summary: Jim Hopper loves and is loved by you





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm brand spanking new to the Jim Hopper thirst train, but it didn't take me long to start writing Hopper x Reader!! These will be posted when I write them, which will be more infrequent since I take the bar in 2 weeks, but I've been having fun writing and posting them to Tumblr, so i figured it would be nice to have them all in once place!
> 
> I'll update the ratings for each chapter, if needed!
> 
> Feel free to send me prompts or come thirst with me on my Tumblr: thewintersoldierdisaster

“Y/N, I told ya to stop,” Hopper drawls, taking another drag on his cigarette. You stop dead in your tracks, hands hovering over the case file resting on the kitchen table. 

“Or what?” you return slyly, a twinkle in your eyes, “Gonna spank me, Chief?”

Hopper huffs a laugh, “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, you brat?”


	2. Chapter 2

“ _how will i know if he really loves me, i say a prayer with every heart beat, i’m asking you, what do you know about these things,”_ you sing the latest Whitney Houston song under your breath as you scrub at the dinner dishes. Jane is finishing up some homework in her room and Hopper’s reclined in his La-Z-Boy, bag of Tostitos in one hand and can of Schlitz in the other. 

Or so you thought. 

“ _how will i know if he’s thinking of me”_ your quiet singing is cut off when a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. “Oh! Thought you were settled for the night,” you mumble, leaning your head back against Jim’s solid barrel chest, even as your hands continue washing dishes. 

“Wanted to make sure you knew I was thinkin’ about ya,” he teases, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

You laugh - you can feel just how much he’s thinking about you pressing into your lower back. “Horn dog,” you accuse, a soft smirk spreading across your face. 

“You know it, baby,” Jim’s moustache tickles your cheek as he dips his head to kiss your neck. “Can’t get enough of ya.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” you promise, wiggling in his grip, knowing exactly what you’re doing. 

Hopper’s voice is a deep rumble, vibrating against your back, “Damn tease.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, sugar, you seen my –” Hopper’s voice trails off when he sees you. 

“Seen what, baby?” you ask innocently. 

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, “Now, you know you ain’t playin’ fair with that, y/n.”

“What?” you ask again, batting your eyes at him. “This?” you tug the cuffs of his Hawkins PD jacket over your hands and hold them out, “I got cold. It is winter, Jim.”

“Winter, my ass,” Hopper grumbles, taking a step or two towards you. “Playin’ a dangerous game, baby. I gotta go to work.”

“I’m not stopping you,” you reply, leaning against the doorframe. 

Hopper swallows heavily. “Take it off, y/n.”

You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend, and suddenly, he knows he’s in trouble. “You sure about that, Hop?”

“Damn chief of police can’t go to work without his jacket,” he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Whatever you say, Chief,” you sigh and unzip the jacket slowly, slipping your arms out of the sleeves and dropping it to the floor, revealing your naked body. 

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” Hopper grinds out, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. 

“What?” you bat your eyes at him again, “I took it off, just like you ordered…Chief.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hopper reaches out and grabs you, pulling you close and kissing you deeply. 

“Thought you had to go to work?” you ask breathlessly when he pulls away, both of you already working on the buttons of his shirt. 

He pins you with a look, “They gonna fire me? I’m the damn chief.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's going to be triple digits in nyc this weekend, so have some hopper x reader x ice cream

“Gimme a lick, baby,” Hopper grins, leaning in towards the ice cream cone you’re holding.  
  
You yank your hand away, holding the sweet treat out of his reach. “No way, Chief. Should’ve gotten your own. But noooo, grumpy old Chief Hopper’s too good for an ice cream cone, even though it’s nearly 100 degrees out.”  
  
To punctuate your words, you stick out your tongue and lick a swirl around the cone.  
  
Hopper wraps an arm around your waist, fingers brushing against bare skin where your crop top rode up, and pulls you closer to him on the bench. “Thought one of these relationship perks was sharing ice cream with my girl?”  
  
He tries to take a bite from your cone, angling around your body. You giggle and try to nudge him out of the way, but he’s so much bigger than you and he actually manages to get a swipe of ice cream on his tongue.  
  
“Hah!” he laughs, triumphant.  
  
“Bastard,” you prod his bicep, “Now it’s got cooties.”  
  
“Cooties?” he lets out a deep laugh, still holding you tight. “How old are ya, sweetheart? 12?”  
  
“14, actually,” you respond primly, eventually dissolving into giggles again. You lick at the cone again and lean your head against Hopper’s shoulder.  
  
His fingers twist into the ends of your long hair, quietly watching you.  
  
“Want some?” you ask eventually, holding the cone up to his face. He shakes his head and dips down to kiss you softly.  
  
“Thought you were all about stealing my ice cream?” you ask, after he pulls away.  
  
“Aw, you’re sweeter than any ice cream cone, sweetheart,” he replies.  
  
“Sap,” you accuse, smiling widely. And then you gasp, indignant, when Hopper bites off a huge piece of your ice cream scoop in retaliation.


	5. Chapter 5

“This was a good idea,” Hopper says, reaching out and grabbing your wrist. He tugs you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your stomach.  
  
You lean into his embrace, resting one hand on the back of his neck. “Only kind I have, honey,” you grin cheekily.  
  
“Brat,” Hopper swats the outside of your thigh. “Tryin’ to give ya a compliment and you gotta get smart.”

Giggling, you run your free hand up his chest to curl around the fabric of his shirt collar. “Better punish me, then.”  
  
“It ain’t punishment when you like it, sweet thing,” Hopper drops a kiss to your bare shoulder, scraping gently with his teeth. His beard and moustache tickle your skin and you squirm on his lap. One large hand clamps onto your thigh and squeezes. “Careful, it’s not as solitary as you think out here.”  
  
And as if to emphasize his point, the screen door to the rental cabin slams open and the kids tumble out, shouting excitedly about something.  
  
You sigh and drop your head to Hopper’s shoulder. Whining a little, you say, “I miss you, Hop. There’s so many kids around and it’s too small of a cabin.”  
  
You’d all been at the cabin for a week now, the vacation your idea since Hopper and Joyce we’re both overworked and the kids were spending too much time indoors playing D & D. You’d seriously underestimated the amount of privacy you’d have with all the kids hanging around and had barely been able to manage a couple of quickies with Hopper during the week.  
  
“Only two more days, baby,” he mutters against your skin. “Meantime, I wouldn’t say no to some old fashioned kissin’.”  
  
You laugh and cup his cheek with one hand, pressing your lips to his in a sensual kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you moan a little, feeling him smirk. He’s hardening under your ass and a thrill of lust shoots up your core. Hopper’s hands grasp your waist tighter, rough fingertips scraping against your sunburned skin.  
  
“Jim,” you mumble against his mouth and he kisses you again.  
  
“I know, baby, it’s killin’ me,” he grumbles, dropping kisses against your jaw and the column of your neck.  
  
“Gross!” Jane’s voice breaks you out of the haze that Hopper’s mouth has induced and you both turn in her direction. She stands, next to Max and Mike, with her hands on her hips and a tilt to her head. “I thought that this was a vacation?” she sasses.  
  
“Yeah,” Hopper retorts, “a vacation from my teenage daughter judgin’ and actin’ like kissin’ my girl is gross.”  
  
You giggle - he and Jane both have matching looks of consternation on their faces. Like father, like daughter, you suppose.  
  
“You were kissing y/n’s *neck*,” Jane points out, as if it’s obvious. “That’s not a normal place to kiss!”  
  
Hopper groans. “Oh go on, kid. Get outta here. See some nature.”  
  
Jane shoots him a narrow-eyed look and says, “Stop being gross.”  
  
You laugh loudly, ignoring Jim’s spluttering and the pinch to the thigh. “Don’t worry, Janie. I’ll make sure he stays right in line. Go off and play.”  
  
Satisfied by your response, Jane runs off with Mike and Max, leaving you cracking up and Jim flabbergasted.  
  
“Keep me in line?” he eventually manages. “Woman, you’re the one constantly tanking me *over* the line.”  
  
You shrug, “Little white lies never hurt anyone.”  
  
He narrows his eyes at you and it almost looks like his mouth is going to twitch up into a smile. You don’t let it, because your mouth is back on his before he can do anything. Hopper responds happily, grunting in annoyance when you pull away.  
  
“What happened?” he asks, hands roaming under your shirt.  
  
“Just thinking about all the gross places I want you to kiss me,” you tease, shrieking in laughter when he groans and digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you mercilessly.  
  
“Jim! Stop! Please, Hopper!” you gasp and giggle, writhing around on his lap.  
  
“Gotta teach you a lesson, sweet thing,” he grins, laughing a little himself. “Thought you were s’posed to keep me in line?”  
  
“I’m sorry!” you gasp, face going red from laughing. “It’s too f-fun!”  
  
The screen door bangs open again and Jane’s annoyed little voice lifts over your laughter. “Dustin! Lucas! My mom and dad are being gross. Do not look over at them.”  
  
Hopper stops tickling you, startled at her shout. You gather your wits and look at your husband, both of you dissolving into wild laughter at Jane’s pronouncement.  
  
“She gets that from you,” you accuse, holding your stomach and catching your breath.  
  
“Me?” Hopper’s eyes widen. “Weren’t you the one who told old Mr. Cole to take a picture cause it would last longer, when he was spyin’ on you washing the car in those *indecent* little shorts?”  
  
“I’m not confirming or denying anything,” you say loftily.  
  
“Yeah, ya don’t have to,” Hopper smirks. “I got the pictures of you shoutin’ in those tiny shorts, pointin’ your finger at him and everything.”

“Oooh,” you threaten, “I’m throwing those out when we get home.”

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” he grins cheekily, “I got that image burned in my brain.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, here have some seriously fluffy hopper x reader cuddling - it was a request from @lavenderstages. this’ll be the last fic i post for a week or so bc i’m going into full-on bar prep hibernation for the final week of studying. drop me some prompts that i can work on after the exam!!

The TV is on - the volume is low and it’s the only source of light in the living room. It’s a quiet Friday night and you’ve had a long week.  
  
“I dunno how this show’s gonna last,” Hopper mutters. “All the fuckin’ in offices and confusin’ jargon.”  
  
You grin to yourself - Hopper likes his action shows, so the fact that he would watch LA Law with you on Friday nights really proved his love for you.

“Aw, I like it,” you reply, tugging his arm more firmly over your chest. You rest under his arm, head partially on his stomach and partially resting against his rib cage with your legs stretched out on the couch. “Workplace drama is entertaining.”

  
“Only workplace drama I see is Callahan and Powell fightin’ over the last doughnut,” he huffs a laugh, brushing his fingers lazily over your side, straying dangerously close to your breast.  
  
You giggle, your hands wrapped loosely around his forearm, playing gently with his arm hair. The show fades into a commercial and you close your eyes, resting them.  
  
“Been a long week, huh?” Hopper asks, quietly amused. He watches your face twitch and smiles, even though you can’t see it.  
  
“Mhm,” you hum. “Never wanna go back to work again.”  
  
“Sorry, baby,” he laughs, “I don’t make enough for that.”  
  
“S’okay,” you slur, rolling your head to rest more fully against his side. The flannel of his shirt is soft under your cheek and his arm is a warm, heavy weight over you. “S’fine as long as I get to come home to you.”  
  
“Always got a place with me, honey,” he says quietly, watching as your face slackens and your grip on his arm loosens. He chuckles to himself - your mouth falls open a little bit as you fall into a deeper sleep. He’s always thought you’re gorgeous, but when you’re asleep, you’re *adorable*. The stress of your day fades away and you look even younger than you already are.  
  
He cranes his neck to look at the clock. 10:35.  
  
Jane’ll be home from her D & D game by 11 - if she listens, which she’d better. He’d rather she wasn’t out so late, but it’s Friday so he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on.  
  
“Baby?” he calls gently, aiming to rouse you enough to shuffle you off to bed. Your nose twitches and you let out a gentle snore. He laughs, “Y/n, time for bed.”  
  
“Nnnngghh,” you grunt, snuggling closer to his side.  
  
“Guess we’re doing this the hard way,” Hopper says to himself. He shifts, angling so he can loop one arm under your knees and brace one around your back. He stands, lifting you bridal-style into the air. He thinks his heart might crack in half when you blink sleepily, smile softly, and curl close to him. One of your hands fists his shirt and the other is caught between your bodies.  
  
Hopper carries you to the bedroom, laying you gently down on your side of the bed. You yawn and stretch and roll over, curling into the feral position facing his side of the bed.  
  
He undresses quickly, sliding under the covers in an undershirt and his boxers. Instinctually, you shift closer to him, your hands reaching for him in your sleep.  
  
“Night, baby,” he murmurs into your hair, wrapping his arms around your back and holding you close. He rests his cheek against your hair, knowing he won’t fall asleep until El is home.  
  
True to her word, the teenager shows up twenty or so minutes later. She creeps into the bedroom, to let Hopper know she’s home and catches sight of you and Hopper cuddling.  
  
She smiles. “Y/n really likes hugs. Even when sleeping.”  
  
“She sure does, kid,” Hopper smiles. He pauses for a minute, knowing that she’s a teen and probably won’t want to, but he can’t help but make the suggestion. “You wanna join us? Got plenty of room for both my girls.”  
  
He sees the hesitation on her face - it’s not so cool to hug your parents, even in the privacy of your own home, when you’re a teenage. But after a beat, she breaks into a wide smile and nods.  
  
“I will change!” she whispers excitedly, darting off for her room. Hopper grins after her and shifts you a little to the side so he can make room for Jane on his free side.  
  
She’s back in a flash, clambering under the covers and under Hopper’s free arm. You wake up a little from all the jostling.  
  
“Janie?” you mumble sleepily, reaching a hand over Hopper’s stomach in her direction.  
  
She grips it in her own and says, “I’m home. We are all going to sleep hug.”  
  
“Snuggle, baby,” you reply, blinking one eye open. “It’s snuggling when you’re all cozy and warm in bed with the people you love.”  
  
“Snuggling,” Jane tries out the unfamiliar word, smiling to herself. Hopper hugs her closer to his side. She likes it - the word and the act. Throwing one arm around Hopper’s middle, Jane sighs and closes her eyes, always quick to fall asleep at night.  
  
“Love you,” you mumble, pressing a sweet kiss to Hopper’s side.  
  
“Love you more,” he replies, holding both his girls close as they all drift off - warm and safe and loved.  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh okay i lied about being on social media lock-down. i had this one finished and i like positive validation before going into a test, so have some hurt hopper and concerned reader! let me know what you think! and send some prompts for me to work on when i’m free!

You’re curled up on the couch, swaddled in a giant cardigan, halfway to sleep, when the front door creaks open and startles you. Your head shoots up and you mumble, “Jim?” sleepily.  
  
“Hey, baby,” his voice is quiet, tired, and you watch him slowly take off his hat and jacket, hanging them on the rack. He kicks off his boots and leaves them in a haphazard pile by the door. You’ve tried to rid him of that habit, to no avail. “Sorry I woke ya,” he says, passing behind the couch and brushing a large hand over your head on his way to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really asleep,” you reply, standing up and stretching out your back. You never really slept when Hopper was on a night shift. You’d rather be tired in the morning, but go to bed knowing he was safe. “How was work?” you ask, following him into the kitchen. His head’s in the fridge - looking for a beer, you assume. You lean against the counter and wrap the soft sweater tighter around your body.  
  
“Regular shift, baby,” he replies, cracking open a can of Schlitz. “Nothin’ special,” he straightens up and takes a deep swig from the can. He turns slightly in your direction and you gasp at the state of his face.  
  
“Jim!” you exclaim, leaning forward and reaching out for his face. Your hands stop just short of touching him and hover awkwardly in the air. “What happened? Are you alright?”  
  
He shrugs and winces a little. “I’ve had worse, honey. Nothin’ a band-aid won’t fix.”  
  
You frown at him. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” you prod his arm. “Into the bathroom with you. I need to clean this up before it gets infected.”  
  
“It’s really nothin’, babe,” he protests even as he follows you to the bathroom, drinking his beer all the while. “It’s barely even bleedin’ anymore.”  
  
It’s the wrong thing to say.  
  
You whirl around, eyes wide. “Jim! You may need stitches!”  
  
“No I don’t,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s just a scratch, stop fussin’.”  
  
You stand at the bathroom door and gesture for him to go in first. He tips an imaginary hat at you and takes a seat on the toilet.  
  
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” you sigh, getting a washcloth from under the sink and dampening it with warm water.  
  
“Now’s that any way to talk to an injured man?” he teases, setting the empty beer can on the edge of the tub and grinning at you.  
  
“Thought it was just a scratch?” you retort, gripping his chin with your thumb and index finger and starting to dab at the slowly dying blood on his forehead and cheek.  
  
“Still,” he says, leaning away from your touch. “Be a little gentler, babe. Still an open wound.”  
  
You huff, but dab at his face gentler. “What happened, really, Jim?”  
  
“Saturday night’s alright for fightin’, I guess,” he says casually.  
  
“Never pegged you for an Elton fan,” you laugh, dropping the bloody washcloth in the sink and getting a clean one. This one’s doused in hydrogen peroxide and Hopper sucks air through his teeth when you touch it to the broken skin. “Sorry,” you murmur.  
  
“Had to break up a fight between Ryan Ames and Chuck Jordan. Bastards were arguin’ over who got to take Cassidy Heck home,” he offers, watching as you rummage in the cabinets for Neosporin and bandaids. “Ames, the dumb fuck, went to crack a beer bottle over Jordan’s head, missed, and hit me.”  
  
“Jesus, Jim,” you sigh, turning back to him. “You’re lucky it’s just split skin.”  
  
His hands settle on your hips, squeezing gently. “Take a lot more than a fuckin’ beer bottle to put me down.”  
  
You huff a breath of air through your nose. “You’re not invincible, baby,” your fingers smooth over the band-aids now taped to his forehead and the side of his eye.  
  
“Never said I was”, he retorts, thumbs brushing under the thin tank top you’re wearing under your cardigan and over your hipbones. You glance down at him, smiling softly. Your hands drop to cup his cheeks and you bend down to kiss him warmly.  
  
“Come on to bed, Hop,” you whisper against his mouth. “I couldn’t relax while you were gone and now I know why. Let’s just get in bed.”  
  
He grins at you. “I might have a concussion. Probably shouldn’t sleep tonight,” he says conspiratorially.  
  
You eye him, “Oh’s that right?”  
  
“Mhm,” he hums innocently, hands dropping to your ass and squeezing. “Wouldn’t want me brain damaged, would ya?”  
  
Snorting, you grip his biceps and tug him to a standing position. His hands remain on your ass, pulling you closer to him.  
  
“Well, if it’s for your health…” you trail off, shrugging. “I suppose we’ll have to keep you up all night and maybe even part of tomorrow.”  
  
Hopper laughs, the sound swallowed when you lean up on tiptoes to kiss him deeply. You’re flush against his body, feeling every inch of him. His large hands splay across your back, holding you close and making it difficult for you to pull away. He rests his forehead against yours when you pull apart.  
  
“Nurse me back to health, baby,” he rasps, voice a low growl. The sound sends a shockwave of arousal through your body and it’s all you can do to keep yourself composed.  
  
“Only if you promise to be a good patient and do as I say,” you reply, a wicked glint in your eye.  
  
“My life’s in your capable hands,” he smirks, leaning down to press a hot, open mouthed kiss to your neck. You tilt your head back, allowing him better access, moaning a little at the brush of his moustache against sensitive skin.  
  
“Bed, now,” you demand, breathlessly. Hopper obeys easily, lifting you into his arms so you can wrap your legs firmly around his waist. He carries you into the bedroom and drops you to the mattress, immediately climbing on top of you and lavishing your neck and chest with kisses.  
  
Your legs wrap around his waist again, heels digging into his ass.  
  
“Jim…oh god,” you breathe, running your hands through his hair. Your hands hit the band-air and you mutter, “be careful of your head.”  
  
“Head’s fine, sweetheart,” he says, voice muffled where his mouth is pressed to your stomach. “It’s my cock’s that’s aching.”  
  
You laugh a the cheesy line. “Well, good thing I’m here to soothe away any aches and pains.”  
  
Now you’re both laughing at the terrible lines and double entendres and it’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had - slow and hot and silly.  
  
“Jesus, Y/n,” Hopper says, flopping back against the pillows a while later, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body. “Thought nurses were s’posed to regulate your heart rate, not send it spiking?”  
  
You loop your naked legs with his, sprawling over his chest and stomach with your chin propped on your hand. Looking up at him, you can feel your face go soft with a dopey look of love.  
  
“What?” he asks, a confused half-smile playing on his lips.  
  
“Nothing,” you shrug, “just thinking about how much I love you.”  
  
“Even when I get off work late with a busted face?” he asks rhetorically, rubbing his fingers over the band-aid.  
  
“Yes,” you laugh, “even then. I always love you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hopper can hear music emanating from the cabin as he drives up. He shakes his head, you and El had really taken a shine to blasting records and having dance parties around the living room. It was cute, but the volume was killer on his ears.  
  
He gets out of the Blazer and heads for the house, Jim  
Croce’s voice becoming more discernible as he gets closer to the front door.  
  
* _You don’t tug on superman’s cape_  
You don’t spit into the wind  
You don’t pull the mask off that old lone ranger*

He laughs and pushes open the door, only to be met with his favorite line of the song, shouted out by his favorite girls.

* _And you don’t mess around with Jim_ *  
  
You and El are dancing around the living room, singing along to the song. Hopper smiles, about to say something, when he notices two things.  
  
One, you’re both copying his lackluster dance moves. Little hip wiggles and all.  
  
Two, you’re both wearing flannels pilfered from his closet.   
  
It’s a hell of a sight - the shirt comes practically to mid-shin on Jane. She’s drowning in fabric, her hands completely engulfed by the sleeves. You’re no better - barely taller than Jane, Hopper’s shirt falls just below the knee on you.  
  
“Hey,” he calls, interrupting the music and your dancing, “you two really got some nerve.”  
  
You look up and grin at the sight of him. As you turn off the music, El runs to him to hug him around the middle. He pats a large hand on her back and ruffles her hair a bit. She scowls at that.  
  
“Welcome home,” you laugh, blowing a kiss. “Why do we have nerve? It’s Friday night dance party.”  
  
Hopper tries to hide his smile under a scowl. “Committin’ larceny while you’re at it.”  
  
“Larceny?” El pipes up, a confused furrow to her brow.  
  
“A crime,” he teases gruffly. “You an’ y/n over here stole my shirts and weren’t intendin’ on givin’ ‘em back.”  
  
El looks over at you and giggles. “No! Y/n said we had to be like Jim if we sing to this song.”  
  
“Oh, so y/n is the criminal mastermind here?” Hopper grins slowly. You shiver a little at the look he gives you.  
  
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and Hopper tracks the new nervous habit you developed. It was sweet - El had been in a mopey teenage mood about her short hair and how long it was taking to grow out and how she wasn’t pretty like the girls on TV or like Y/n with their long hair. You had barely let El finish speaking before you grabbed the kitchen scissors in one hand and a hunk of your hair in the other, chopping it off in one swift move. Both El and Hopper had gasped, but you only smiled and shrugged. You’d gone to the salon to even it out and came home an hour later with a shoulder-length cut nearly identical to Jane’s. The teen had beamed in gratitude and hugged you tight around the middle.  
  
Watching you dance together, with your matching hair cuts, Hopper smiles to himself because you really look like a mother-daughter duo.  
  
“Aw, Hop,” you pout, “what’s the point of living with you if we can’t steal the giant comfy shirts?”  
  
“That all I am to you?” he retorts. “A closet extension?”  
  
“And bug killer,” you grin cheekily.  
  
El pipes up, “drain unclogger too, don’t forget, Y/n!”  
  
You grin widely and point at El. “Janie’s got a point. You unclog the drains!”  
  
Shaking his head, Hopper grumbles, “You two are crazy.” But he’s smiling and already leaning forward to kiss you.  
  
“Go get comfy,” you say after breaking the kiss. “We’ll finish Friday night dance party and have dinner before Miami Vice.”  
  
Jane beams and pushes at Hopper’s side. “Go! Go change!” she demands, making no headway in moving her dad. Hopper laughs, remaining still.  
  
“You gotta find some manners, kid,” he chastises. “Pushin’ your dear, old dad around.”  
  
“Yeah,” you pipe up, a wicked grin on your face, “he might break a hip, Janie.”  
  
Hopper turns, pinning you with a glare. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one, y/n.”  
  
“I’m looking forward to it, Chief,” you say deliberately, watching his pupils darken. Point for you.  
  
“Go change!” Jane commands again and this time, Hopper rolls his eyes and heads off to his room with a “Bossy much, kid?”  
  
His comments are drowned out as you flip the record player back on, grabbing Jane’s hand and twirling her around the living room. Your combined giggles fill the room.  
  
When Hopper emerges from the bedroom a few minutes later, he’s clad in jeans and one of his flannels, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Okay that I matched you two?” he asks rhetorically, crossing his arms over his broad chest.  
  
“Yes!” Jane says emphatically, smiling as she grabs his hand and pulls him to start dancing. He resists a bit.  
  
“Hey, Friday night dance parties aren’t in my purview,” he grumbles, but lets Jane swing his arm back and forth. You grin at him.  
  
“Come on, babe,” you wheedle, “it’s been a long week. Let loose and dance with us.”  
  
“Dance with us!” Jane pleads, bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking incredibly happy.  
  
Hopper lets out a long-suffering sigh. He grabs one of your hands and one of Jane’s hands and then twirls our both under his arms, eliciting wild giggles from both of you.  
  
“ _You don’t mess around with Jim_ ,” he sings along with the song, off-key.


	9. Chapter 9

“Okay, babe, it’s my turn for the TV,” you bound into the living room, ponytail streaming behind you. “It’s time to get physical with Jane Fonda.”  
  
Hopper looks up from the TV, a wolfish smile spreading under his moustache as he catches sight of your spandex-clad ass. “Aw, baby, you don’t need that exercise. I can think of more fun ways to get your heart rate up, anyway.”  
  
You plant your hand on your hip and jut it out, “Nice try, mister. Domesticity’s made me lazy.” You smooth a hand over your ass, “gonna be real difficult for me to fit in my jeans if we keep making Eggo sundaes.”

There’s a little, indecipherable twitch of Hopper’s moustache. He raises an eyebrow. “Your ass is lookin’ pretty good to me.”

“And I have to keep up with my Jane Fonda tapes if I want it staying this perky,” you laugh, dancing over and snatching the remote from his hands. He protests a bit, but lets you have it easily. “You can stay and watch if you want, but no distracting me.”  
  
Hopper smiles tightly, the video starting up with all the fit people bouncing around. He makes a little grumbling noise and says, “Nah, gonna go have a smoke.”  
  
He heaves himself out of the recliner and stomps off to the back porch, swiping his carton of cigarettes and lighter as he passes through the kitchen. You watch him leave and wince a bit as the storm door slams shut behind him. Weird. He hadn’t seemed to be in a bad mood from work, but with Hopper, nearly anything could trigger a bad mood. You don’t want to worry about it right now, besides, you had your ways to get him out of a bad mood.   
  
Smirking to yourself, you turn the volume up on the video and start doing your lunges.  
  


* * *

Later, you emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, to find Hopper already under the covers and turned away from you. You frown at his back - he’s already turned down your offer to join you in the shower, which is normally something he loves to take advantage of, especially on nights like tonight when Jane is having a sleepover at Max’s house.  
  
“You okay?” you murmur quietly, dropping the towel into the hamper and stepping into a tiny pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It’s hot - even for August in Indiana - but Hopper’s got an undershirt on. Also weird, since he normally “forgets” the shirt, knowing you’re more likely to initiate a quickie if there’s less clothes to remove.  
  
He grunts - not really a reply, in your opinion.  
  
“Jim, seriously, what’s going on?” you ask again, slipping under the covers and resting your hand on his hip. He twists away from your touch and makes a noncommittal noise.  
  
His rejection stings and you feel embarrassed tears springing to your eyes. You glance down at your hips and the slightly thicker curve of your waist. Had you gained that much weight? You hadn’t thought Hopper was the type to be so judgmental about a woman’s body.  
  
Willing your voice not to waver, you huff, “If this is because I’ve gained some love weight, James Hopper, I swear to God -“  
  
He cuts you off with a harsh laugh. Rolling over to face you, Hopper’s face is twisted in disbelief. “You think you gained weight? You look like a fuckin’ teenager next to me. I’m a fat old fuck and I don’t know why you stick around.”  
  
His face falls into an expression of anger and sadness. His brow is dark and creased and your heart cracks open.   
  
“Jim…” you sigh, reaching out for his hand and holding it in a vice-like grip even as he tries to pull it away. “You old fool. Yeah, you’re not twenty something anymore and you’re not at high school weight, but when on Earth have I ever, ever indicated that I cared about that?”  
  
Hopper avoids your gaze, but tightens his fingers around yours.  
  
“I love you, Jim Hopper, all of you. Even when you’re being stupid,” you grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Even when you snore and hog the covers or refuse to put the seat down. I don’t care what you look like, baby. I care about how you act.”  
  
Finally, Hopper gives you a little twitch of a smile. “You could have anyone, y/n…”  
  
“But here I am,” you smile softly, curling closer to him and resting your hand against his neck.  
  
“Here you are,” he repeats, looping his arms around your back and holding you tight. He buries his face in your hair and you tangle your legs with his. His heart beats steadily under your cheek and you’ve never felt safer.  
  
“If you ever feel bad about yourself or put yourself down in my presence again, I’ll kick your ass, Jim Hopper,” you grin into the fabric of his shirt.  
  
He laughs, chest vibrating pleasantly, and squeezes you in a hug. “I’d like to see ya try, sweetheart.”  
  
“Asshole,” you mutter, pinching his side. He grunts and swats gently at your ass.  
  
“Don’t be a brat,” he says lowly.  
  
A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and you wiggle even closer to him. His cock is growing hard against your thigh, twitching a little. You grin and reach down to grasp him. His hips buck against you and he growls.  
  
“Baby…” he warns.  
  
“You didn’t join me in the shower,” you pout, hand rubbing at him over his boxers.  
  
“So this is payback?” he laughs, sliding his hands under the back of your shirt and brushing rough fingertips over your skin. You shiver again.  
  
“Let me show you how much I love you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw. Removing your hand from his dick, you gently push on his shoulder, nudging him onto his back so you can swing one leg over his hip and straddle him. Hopper’s hands immediately grasp your hips.  
  
“You don’t gotta, baby,” he says seriously, but the hardness of his cock and the lust in his eyes say otherwise.  
  
“Oh, I’ve never done anything to you that I didn’t want to,” you wink, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. “Now,” you say, breaking for a breath, “lie back and let me take care of you.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” he smirks and then there’s no more talking. 


	10. Chapter 10

You tilt your head towards the door when Hopper knocks again.  
  
“Y/n, you okay in there?” his voice is muffled by the wood, but you can hear the concern in his tone. It only makes your stomach twist up more.

How in the fuck are you supposed to tell him?

“Baby, I know me and Jane’s Eggo extravaganza isn’t the greatest, but you’ve never been sick before,” there’s a soft thudding noise and you know he’s leaning against the wall now. You can picture him, eyes closed and head tilted back against the wood as his fingers worry at the rubber band looped around his wrist.  
  
The pet name, normally one of your favorites, is like a knife in the heart and your stomach flips uneasily.  
  
“I’m not sick,” you call back, crawling up on your hands and knees to open the bathroom door. You look up at your boyfriend and there’s a crease of worry in between his eyebrows.  
  
“Baby, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor,” he raises an eyebrow. “Not sure that’s how healthy people act.”  
  
He steps into the doorway and you sigh, scooting back to lean against the bathtub. “Jim,” you mumble his name, “we gotta talk.”  
  
“Well, shit, y/n,” he frowns. “That’s not…didn’t think dinner was bad enough to dump me over.” The forced joke comes out a little strangled.  
  
You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not dumping you. I…I think you should sit down.”  
  
He looks around the bathroom pointedly. “Where, honey? The sink?”  
  
You pat the floor next to you, “Spot’s open.”  
  
With an eye roll and a grumble about old knees, Hopper sinks down to sit next to you on the floor. His back rests against the tub as well, his bulk making the small room feel even smaller. You feel positively minuscule next to him.  
  
“So, what’s the matter?” he asks, resting a hand on your knee. “Thought Jane was the only moody teenager in the house.”  
  
You crack a small smile at his joke and simply rest the positive pregnancy test on your thigh, just above his hand. He looks down at the plastic stick, forehead crinkling, and then up at you.  
  
“Oh, shit,” he murmurs under his breath.  
  
There are tears in your eyes - anxious, scared tears - and you nod. “I’m so sorry, Jim! I’m … I didn’t….” you break off, unsure of what to say, and a little horrified that tears are dripping down your cheeks. You know about his past - about Sara - and you know that he’s never expressed any desire to have another kid beyond Jane.  
  
“Hey, hey, sweetheart,” Hopper’s arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you close against his side. “This ain’t all on you. It’s not.”  
  
“I know this isn’t want you want,” you cry. “I didn’t want to ruin everything.”  
  
“You didn’t, honey,” he rests his cheek on your head. “Yeah, I never imagined having another kid, but I’m not gonna…I could do this with you.”  
  
“Yeah?” you sniffle, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “I’m not gonna trap you, if this isn’t want you want.”  
  
“You think I’ve ever done anything I didn’t wanna do?” he asks, one hand rubbing up and down on your arm. “I’m not gonna say that I expected this or that I planned for it, but, babe, I’m not leavin’ you.”  
  
Tears start falling faster and you almost want to laugh at the expression of shock on his face. “Baby, what’d I say?”  
  
“The best thing,” you murmur around tears, “I love you, Jim Hopper.”  
  
The knot of fear and anxiety in your stomach has abated and you lean against Hopper’s side, wrapping your own arms around his middle. You bury your face in his shoulder.  
  
“I love you too, honey,” he replies, hugging you tight. “Now we just gotta tell Jane she’s gonna be a big sister.”  
  
You let out a watery laugh. “Oh god, I hope she takes it well.”  
  
“We’ll do it over Eggos,” he says, teasing glint in his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

You know you’re an outsider and that the people of Hawkins apparently don’t take well to outsiders. Especially the female population of Hawkins. Sure, they were pleasant enough when they saw you out and about, but the whispers started up just as soon as they thought you might be out of earshot.

Normally it doesn’t bother you - you learned long ago not to care about other people’s perceptions. But today, with your pregnancy hormones raging, the whispers that followed you from Family Video to the library to the grocery store, were just getting to be too much.

_“_ _Fifteen years! Can you believe it?”_

_”Knocked-up. Thought he was smarter than that.”_

_”Sure knew how to trap him quickly.”_  
  
You turn down a different aisle in the grocery store, your free hand resting protectively over the small curve of your stomach. It wasn’t even noticeable - not unless you wore a tight fitting top. But the loose Duran Duran tee-shirt tucked into jean shorts obscured the evidence of your new pregnancy. There was nothing you could do about the age difference between yourself and Hopper. And sure, you’d only been dating just shy of a year when you found out you were pregnant, but that wasn’t so unusual.

What the gossipy, bored housewives of Hawkins hated was the fact that you and Hopper weren’t married. Or maybe they really did just hate that you had “trapped” him when none of them could. You hate the fact that Jim had slept with most of them, not because he’d had an active sex life before you came into the picture - you’d slept with a handful of men before falling for Jim -, but because these women thought it gave them a claim, a stake in his personal life.  
You throw three boxes of Eggo waffles into your basket and head for the check-out. It’s time to get out of the public area of town and head home. You keep your head down as your groceries are rung up, not wanting to attract more attention. But the whispers continue - about your too short shorts, your lack of wedding ring, the absolutely inappropriate way you had kissed Hopper at the Memorial Day town picnic just a few weeks before. Biting the inside of your cheek, you offer the teenage cashier a tight smile and pay, quickly scrambling to your car with the groceries.

————

Hopper comes home, just before dinner, and finds you curled up on the couch. He frowns when he realizes that you’re staring blankly at the TV, ignoring the opening music of the 6 o’clock news.

“Sweetheart?” he leans over the back of the couch and rests a hand on the top of your head. “You okay?”

“Hm?” you blink a few times, rolling your neck to face Hopper. “Oh, hi, baby,” you say quietly, giving him a small, tight smile, “Fine, just a little tired.”

He squints at you, evaluating whether or not to probe a little more. Eventually he chooses to believe you. “Everything good with the baby?”

“Mhm,” your smile is more genuine now. “I can almost feel her flipping around in there.”

“Her?” he raises an eyebrow and comes around the side of the couch to sit with you. He opens his arms and you settle against his broad chest, draping one arm over his stomach.

His arms lock around your shoulders and you shake your head. “Just a feeling. I could be wrong,” you mumble into his shirt. He smells like cigarettes, even though he was supposed to have quit when you found out about the baby. He must be stressed.

You can sympathize.

“Another little girl would be nice,” he says quietly, only a little sadness in his tone. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back.

You cuddle with him quietly for a few minutes, neither one of you really wanting to move. Suddenly, he asks, “Hey, shouldn’t El be home for dinner?”

“She’s hanging out at Joyce’s. They’ve got some crazy D & D campaign happening. Joyce is ordering them all a pizza,” you reply.

“Got the house to ourselves?” Hopper asks and you can hear the smile and suggestion in his voice.

Any other night and you would’ve already had his clothes on the floor, but the murmurs and gossiping behind your back has really burrowed its way into your brain. You shrug and try to get even closer to Hopper. “Not really feeling up to it, Hop,” you admit quietly.

His hand - warm and large - rests against the middle of your back and rubs slow circles. “Okay, we can just relax and enjoy a kid free night.”

You shrug and feel Hopper shift under you. He gently pulls away and looks down at your face, a concerned crease forming in between his eyebrows. 

“Okay, what’s the matter? You’ve been quiet all night and I sure as hell know that’s outta the ordinary for you.”

You hesitate and then admit flatly, “They’ve been talking about us.”

Hopper’s face sets into an angry scowl. “Thought I made it perfectly clear that you n’me aren’t a gossip topic for this town?”

“You can’t stop people from thinking and whispering to each other,” you mumble. “At least they’ve stopped saying shit to my face.”

“I’m the fuckin’ chief, and you’re my girl,” Hopper growls. “Think they’d show us some respect.”

You let out a joyless laugh, “It’s not like they’re making up lies about me, Jim. I’m 29 and knocked-up with my boyfriend’s baby. I’m a fucking stereotype. At least I’m out of my teens.”

Hopper goes silent and you hold your breath, blinking back tears. He can’t even deny it - everything that’s been said about you is entirely true. Well, except for that fact that you plotted and planned to trap him with a pregnancy. That was entirely Mother Nature’s doing. Damn antibiotics cancelling out birth control.

“It’s fine,” you say, waving a hand in the air and trying so hard to sound casual. “I’m happy with you and El and the baby. I don’t care if a bunch of gossipy women think I’m just an unmarried harlot.”

“What if you weren’t?” Hopper says slowly and it takes your brain a minute for his words to register.

“Weren’t what? A harlot?” you ask, leaning away from him a bit and tilting your head in confusion. “I didn’t think I was.”

“No, no,” Hopper shakes his head quickly, a strangely nervous look settling over his handsome features. “What if you weren’t unmarried?”

You sit up fully, leaning back on your knees to stare at him. “I’m sorry? What was that?”

Jim grins at you - the audacity of grinning when your heart is beating right out of your damn chest - and grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “Said, what if you weren’t unmarried?”

“James Hopper,” you narrow your eyes at him, a slow, disbelieving smile threatening the corners of your mouth, “is that what passes for a proposal in your mind?”

He digs his free hand in the front pocket of his work pants and produces a small velvet box. Your jaw drops slightly. “Would a ring make it a better proposal?” he teases, using his thumb to flip open the lid. A small, sparkling diamond set on a thin gold band greets you.

“Oh!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Jim?” you look up at him, tears gathering in your eyes.

He grins even wider. “Didn’t really plan on doin’ it like this, but what the hell. Y/n, mine and El’s lives are so much better ‘cause you’re in them. Will you marry me?”

He’s not big on romantic words, but you can’t help but feel like Jim Hopper just composed a fucking sonnet on the spot. You nod vehemently, lunging forward to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him soundly.

“That a yes?” he mumbles against your lips when you break for air.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Jim Hopper!” you exclaim, “Of course it’s a yes!”

He slips the ring on your finger and you admire it, smiling softly to yourself.

“Looks good on ya,” he comments.

“I love it,” you reply. “I love _you_.”

“Yeah?” he asks, as if he still doubts your love and commitment. He casts his eyes down at the ring and hesitates. “Wanted to ask you months ago. Kept gettin’ nervous. Then I didn’t want you to think it was ‘cause of the baby.”  
Your smile falters a bit. “It’s not, right?”

Subconsciously, your right hand traces the curve of your stomach - the baby changed a lot, but you hoped it hadn’t been the reason for Hopper to do something he wouldn’t have done otherwise. Hopper’s gaze tracks the motion and he shakes his head.

“El and I picked the ring out around March, was gonna do it then and there, but the kid convinced me it should be special. She and Max had ideas,” he laughs, remembering the onslaught of romantic actions he was supposed to have taken.

“I don’t need special, Jim,” you say quietly, resting your hand on his knee. “This was perfect.”

Hopper still looks a little sheepish, a little embarrassed, but there’s a happy twitch to his moustache and he pulls you forward into a hug. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters, “Anybody in this damn town thinks they’re gonna say shit about my wife, fuck they’ve got another thing comin’.”

You giggle - his _wife_. You’re going to be Jim Hopper’s wife and officially El’s stepmother. God, what a wild turn this day had taken.


	12. Chapter 12

“Jim, wake up,” you whisper, running a hand over his neck and chest, trying to wake him up slowly. He grunts and rolls over, nearly flipping you off the bed as you roll with him.

Your startled yelp is what ends up waking him. He rolls back over and looks down at you, “What the fuck, y/n? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know,” you grumble, wriggling your way out from under Hopper’s bulk. “I tried to wake you up nicely, but you’re you.”

He scrubs a hand over his face and shifts to help you, the old mattress on the pull-out creaking under him. “Why’re you wakin’ me up in the middle of the night anyway?”

“Because,” you smile wickedly, “it’s a gorgeous clear night with a full moon and we’re going swimming in the lake.”

It’s dark in the room, despite the bright moonlight, but you can still see the confused frown on Hopper’s face. He shakes his head, “It’s cold in the lake? And it’s still dark out.”

“Exactly,” you smirk. “Skinny dipping only works when it’s dark out.” You hop off the bed and saunter out of the room, making your hips sway purposefully.

Hopper’s voice calls out weakly after you, “skinny dippin’?”

The bed spring creaks and his feet hit the floor. You grin triumphantly to yourself - he’s such a soft-touch. You’re halfway down the steps of the porch when Hopper catches up to you, his large hand wrapping entirely around your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.

He tugs you back and you spin, free hand flattening against his chest. You look up at him and smile innocently, “hey there.”

“None’a that ‘hey there’ and smilin’ business,” he says sternly, but you can see a twinkle of excitement in his blue eyes. “I know you ain’t innocent, not when ya come up with skinny dippin’ as a recreational activity.”

“I thought it would be fun,” you say, curling your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “We haven’t had any privacy all week….”

“Dammit,” Hoper growls under his breath, shaking his head a bit. “If any’a those kids,” he hikes his free thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the house, “finds us, we’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

You bounce happily on the balls of your feet, “That, Chief, is a risk I’m willing to take.”

Hopper sighs and lets you tug his arm, pulling him in the direction of the lake. You kick off your flip flops as you run, listening to Hopper’s bare feet slap against the dirt path. He’s laughing a little and you know this is a good idea. You’ve both been a little frustrated during the week and a little fooling around never hurt anybody.

Before you know it, you’ve reached the lake and you drop Hopper’s hand, immediately beginning to unbutton your jean shorts. Hopper watches as you shimmy out of the fabric, pupils blowing wide with lust when the pale moonlight reveals your lack of panties. You grin wickedly at him, tilting your chin at his shorts. “Your turn, stud,” you tease, running your tongue over your lower lip.

With a wry grin, Hopper complies, undoing the fly on his shorts and pushing them down his legs before kicking them off. He makes quick work of his boxers and then you’re both standing there with only shirts on. He makes a move to grab the hem of your t-shirt, to pull it over your head, when you giggle and dance away. “Hey!” he exclaims, hands still hovering in mid-air.

“First one in the lake orgasms last,” you giggle, pulling the shirt over your head and throwing it over your shoulder. The worn fabric flutters to the ground and Hopper laughs.

He’s running to catch up with you, stumbling only a bit when he pulls his shirt over his head, grasping the fabric behind his neck. His own shirt gets discarded just as your feet are splashing at the shore of the lake. A shiver runs up your spine and you pause - without the sun, the lake water is cold - which is just enough time for Hopper to catch up to you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you into the air. You shriek and giggle, wiggling in his arms. “Jim! Put me down!”

“Oh no,” he laughs, “we’re getting into that lake.”

“No!” you yelp, the world going upside down as Hopper tosses you over his shoulder, fireman style. It gives you a fantastic view of his ass and you playfully pinch him. He smacks your ass in response, gently nipping at the skin with his teeth. You wiggle in his grip, causing Hopper to tighten his grasp on your upper thighs.

“Stop wigglin’ or I’m gonna drop ya,” he warns, wading into the lake. “Fuck, this is cold,” he hisses, knee-deep in the water. You rest an elbow on his lower back, propping your chin on your palm.

“Hurry up, Chief,” you tease, “I’m freezing out here.”

Hopper smirks to himself and shifts his grip so that one hand is gripping on each of your thighs. His body weight shifts and a sudden clarity hits you. “Jim!” you warn, but your voice trails off in a shriek as he flings you forward, your body making a huge splash as you hit the water.

He’s cracking up when you surface, spitting water out of your mouth and brushing hair out of your eyes. “Oooh, you’re going to pay for that!” you threaten, standing and jumping on him, wrapping your cold, wet body around his. He immediately wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

“Babe,” he grins, “if this is your idea of a punishment, I’ve been real bad.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, kissing the side of his jaw, “how bad, Chief?”

He wades deeper into the water before answering, until you’re both covered up to your shoulders in the water. You shiver in Hopper’s arms and he holds you tighter, the hardness of his cock pressing against you. He leans close to your ear, whispering, “Real bad, baby. Thought about you in the shower last night. Your tight little cunt and that dirty mouth of yours.”

Heat pools in your stomach and you rock against him, arms looped around Hopper’s neck.

“Jesus, Hop,” you whine against his cheek. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me all week.”

His hands slip low on your ass, cupping the curve of your cheeks. He brushes a kiss against the hollow of your neck, his beard scraping your skin. “Could fuck you right now,” he mutters against your wet skin, scraping his teeth over your collarbone, “If you promise to be quiet. Don’t wanna have anyone runnin’ out here.”

“I promise,” you murmur, fingers twisting into his hair. “Fuck me, Jim.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he rasps, adjusting his grip on you so he can thrust his hips up, pushing his cock into you. You gasp and throw your head back in bliss. Hopper kisses your exposed neck, thrusting up into you all the while.

The water around you churns and splashes - if anyone looked out at the lake they would definitely know what was happening.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” Hopper mutters into your mouth, his fingers digging into your ass.

“Jim, Jim, oh my god,” you chant. Your legs tighten around his waist as your orgasm builds in your lower stomach. One of his hands drops between you and finds your clit. His thumb presses against the bundle of nerves and you come with a shout.

“Shhh shhh, baby. Be quiet,” Jim mutters, looking over his shoulder at the cabin. None of the lights go on, so he figures you’re still in the clear.

“Sorry, fuck,” you mutter, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. “God that felt so fucking good, Jim.”

He laughs, a little strangled and you raise your head. “Oh, shit! Keep going, Hop, can’t let you out of the water with uh, that sort of problem.”

“S’fine, baby,” he grunts, but you can feel that he’s still rock hard inside of you.

“No it’s not,” you stroke his back. “Go on, Hop. Fuck me, come inside me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but starts up a rhythm again. You bounce in his arms as Hopper thrusts into you, grunting the whole time. His hips stutter and he grips your ass tighter - definitely leaving bruises - before you feel him come, hot spurts filling you up.

“Better?” you ask after a moment, when Hopper’s breathing has evened out.

He laughs, “Yeah, guess you’re better than my hand.”

“You _guess_?” your laugh is incredulous and you splash Hopper in the face.

He sputters, nearly dropping you. “Can’t compliment you too much,” he smirks, “don’t want your ego gettin’ out’a hand.”

“Bastard,” you laugh, kissing him softly. “Thanks for coming out here with me.”

“Well, it was worth my while, wasn’t it?” he jokes, kissing you before you can say anything. You roll your eyes, but kiss him back.

It’s a peaceful night, so you end up floating in the lake, playfully splashing each other, for a while. You talk quietly - about serious things like plans for the future and silly things like whether or not to throw a Christmas party. (Hopper’s so vehemently against it, but you know by Halloween you’ll have him convinced.) 

You make-out lazily, floating in each other’s arms, until you yawn, and Hopper suggests going inside.

“Think it’s time for bed now, huh?”

“It’s so nice out here,” you reply sleepily. Hopper gathers you in his arms anyway, beginning to make his way to shore.

“It’ll be even nicer to be warm and in bed,” Hopper responds.

You snuggle into his embrace. “I’m already warm with you.”

Hopper sets you on your feet on the ground, pulling his oversized shirt over your head. The hem hangs to mid-thigh on you, hiding your lack of underwear and making it so you don’t have to wiggle back into the jean shorts. He quickly pulls on his boxers and shorts before taking hold of your hand and walking back to the cabin.

“This was a good idea, sweetheart,” he mumbles, bringing your hands to his mouth and kissing the back of yours.

“Only kind I have,” you reply smartly.

He eyes you skeptically, raised eyebrow and all. “Think Jane and me were treated to a Kitchen Sink Casserole that would say otherwise.”

You wince. “Okay yeah, maybe that wasn’t my best idea. But all the rest of them are good!”

Hopper snorts, but doesn’t say anything. He ushers you ahead of him up the steps of the cabin and holds his finger to his lips. You roll your eyes and ease open the door. Hopper’s close on your heels.

A light flips on and you both startle, Hopper crashing into you as you stop moving. Both of you let out curses and frown when you realize it’s Jane sitting in an armchair next to the lamp.

“Jesus Christ, Janie,” Hopper frowns. “The hell are you doin’ up?”

Jane gives him an identical frown. “It is one-four-three. Why are you and y/n not in the cabin?”

“We were … were …” Hopper fumbles for an answer and then shakes his head. “Hang on, I’m the dad. I don’t explain to you. Get to bed, kid.”

The teen pouts and crosses her arms. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You step forward, one hand tugging at the hem of your shirt so it doesn’t ride up, and rest a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Why not, sweetie?”

Jane shrugs, eyes cast down at the floor. You catch Hopper’s eye over her head. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. The nightmares had abated over the years, but every once in a while, Jane suffered and couldn’t sleep. She rarely wanted to talk about them, but liked to have other people around.

“Give us a minute and then you can join us on the crappy pull-out,” Hopper says quietly, a reassuring half-smile on his face. Jane nods and trots off to the kitchen where you can hear the freezer door open and shut.

You look at Hopper and quirk an eyebrow, “I’m really glad we got that alone time now.”

He closes his eyes and snorts a laugh. “Me too, baby, me too.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Can’t believe you were so stupid,” Hopper grins, teasing lilt to his voice. He holds open the front door and you step under his arm and into the cabin, scowling all the while.  
  
“Not my fault,” you mutter, words a little slurred by the good meds the ER doctor gave you. You lean one shoulder against the wall and kick off your sneakers, sending them flying. One lands on the couch and the other goes sailing down the hallway.

Hopper whistles. “That was at least a 50 yard kick, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, frowning in his direction. “S’not my fault.”  
  
“Kinda is,” he retorts. “Don’t remember anybody else tellin’ ya to try out Max Mayfield’s skateboard.”  
  
You can’t actually disagree with him - attempting to ride the skateboard had been entirely your idea. But, “I want the kids to like me! I was trying to fit in.”  
  
Jim grins - the audacity! - and strides forward to grip your upper arms. He looks down at you and says seriously, “Face the music, sweetheart, y’ain’t cool to the kids anymore. Now you’re just a boring old adult.”  
  
“Who you calling ‘old’, Jim Hopper?” you jab your index finger into his chest, pouting.  
  
“The 28-year-old woman who busted her arm tryin’ to ride a skateboard to impress a pack of teens,” he retorts with a smirk.  
  
You drop your forehead to his chest. “I’m old,” you moan into the fabric, entirely too dramatic thanks to the pain pills. Jim’s arms come up around your back and hug you close. You lean into the embrace.  
  
“It ain’t so bad, gettin’ old,” he mutters into your hair. “Nobody minds when dinner’s at 4 or if you nod off into your mashed potatoes.”  
  
He laughs, loud and deep, and you pull away from his arms, smacking his arm with your good hand. “You bastard!” you yelp, a smile threatening to overtake your face. “I will not be eating dinner at 4 or falling asleep into my potatoes.”  
  
Ducking away from your abuse, Hopper laughs again and it’s a wonderful sound. “We’ll see, babe. They gave ya the good shit at the hospital.”  
  
Even as he talks, you can feel your head getting heavier and fuzzier. You hum a response. “I’m definitely feeling it.”  
  
“Why don’t I help you into pajamas and you can get some rest?” he suggests, brushing a hand over your good arm. You nod, going to rub your eye and almost smacking yourself in the head with your brand new arm cast.  
  
“Shit,” you mutter, glaring at the plaster. “That’s going to be a pain in the ass.”  
  
“Don’t go givin’ yourself a black eye too,” Hopper teases, blue eyes twinkling with mirth.  
  
“Glad you’re amused, Hop,” you roll your eyes and follow him into the bedroom. You stop in your tracks abruptly, realizing something. “Oh shit!”  
  
“What happened?” Hopper turns quickly, worry written across his face.  
  
“I gotta shower!” you exclaim, a little slurred. “I wanna wash all the gross hospital feeling offa me.”  
  
Even as you speak, your head feels like it’s getting heavier and it’s harder to keep your eyes open. You blink at him slowly. “I needa wash my hair, Hop.”  
  
He snorts. “Okay, babe. We’ll wrap your cast up and you can jump in the tub.”  
  
He’s already shuffling you off towards the kitchen to grab the saran wrap. You lean against the counter as he wraps the plastic cling film around the cast, checking to make sure that it’s a decently tight seal. Once he’s satisfied, Jim pats your cheek and nudges you in the direction of the bathroom. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll get you a snack to eat before you go to bed.”  
  
You nod, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his stubbly cheek. “Thanks, Nurse Jim.”  
  
“Yeah, let’s not make that a thing,” Jim says drily, rolling his eyes. But he kisses your forehead anyway and swats your ass gently as you walk off.  
  
“What now?” he asks a moment later when you stop in the middle of the the hallway.  
  
You turn, “I don’t think I can wash my hair with one hand? Can you do it for me?”  
  
A pout forms on your face and Hopper’s incapable of saying no. He sighs and nods his head towards the bathroom, “Go on, I’m right behind ya.”  
  
And true to his word, he is. His hands find your hips and he’s pushing you along, fingers gently digging into your skin. You smile at his closeness, the feeling of his bulk at your back. He dips his head forward and kisses the skin at the nape of your neck, exposed by your high, sloppy ponytail.  
  
You undress quickly, while Hopper fills the tub with scalding hot water and an obscene amount of bubble bath - just the way you like it. He holds onto your good hand as you carefully climb into the tub.  
  
“Ohhhh,” you sigh happily, sinking into the water up to your shoulders.  
  
“Watch the cast, babe,” Hopper warns, smiling slightly at the look of pure bliss that’s spreading across your face.  
  
“Stupid cast,” you mutter, but keep the plastic wrapped plaster well above the water line.  
  
Hopper shakes his head. “Still can’t believe you tried the ride the skateboard.” He pauses, smile evident in his voice even though your eyes are closed. “And fell off before you even got two feet down the sidewalk.”  
  
Splashing a little water outside of the tub, you gesture wildly, “The sidewalk was uneven! I would’ve gone further if I didn’t hit that curb!”  
  
“Sure, sweetheart,” Hopper agrees, shit-eating grin on his face. He grabs the shampoo off of the shower ledge and squeezes some into his hands. “Lean back.”  
  
You oblige and close your eyes, sighing in bliss as Hopper’s fingers begin to scrub the shampoo into your hair. He chats quietly, telling you about the stupid things he’s seen people get arrested for. Slowly, but surely, the sound of his voice, coupled with the hot water and pain pills lulls you to sleep.  
  
Before you know it, a large, warm hand straying over your breast wakes you up.  
  
“Huh?” you ease awake, blinking and looking around in a daze. Your bleary eyes land on Hopper and you grin lazily. “Copping a feel when I’m in a weakened condition?”  
  
“Yeah,” Hopper drawls sarcastically, his hand still working over your breast. “Fell asleep, you were so turned on.”  
  
The bath is lukewarm now and your hair feels squeaky clean. You smile. “I’m wide awake now, baby.”  
  
Hopper raises an eyebrow. You beam toothily at him.  
  
“What if I promise not to hit you in the head with my cast?” you giggle.  
  
“I wouldn’t believe ya,” Hopper’s moustache twitches. “Once I get ya goin’, you’re not in control of your body.”  
  
Wrinkling your nose at him, you stick out your tongue like a child and splash a little water in his face. He rears back, frowning and shaking his head like a dog.  
  
“That any way to treat the guy that kneeled on the floor for twenty minutes to wash your hair?” he teases.  
  
“I’ll make it up to you,” you wink.  
  
“Aw,” Hopper smirks a little, “you drive a hard bargain, sweetheart. Lucky you’re so cute.”  
  
He stands, groaning a little, and grabs a towel. He holds it open and you stand up carefully, letting him warm you in the worn terrycloth. Hopper wraps the towel around you and gently lifts you up, settling you on your feet outside the tub. He rubs his hands up and down your arms, warming you completely. You lean into his embrace and Hopper kisses the crown of your head.  
  
“That wasn’t quite the sexy kiss I was hoping for,” you mumble. pouting again.  
  
“Yeah?” he asks, leading you back into the bedroom. You sit down on the bed while he looks for a pair of old sweats that you like to sleep in. “Sleep the pain pills off and I’ll give ya any kinda kiss you want.”  
  
He turns around and you’re fast asleep, sprawled flat on your back, towel threatening to slip open and expose you. With an affectionate eye roll, Hopper quickly changes you into one of his oversized shirts and tucks you in.  
  
“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a large hand over your head.


	14. Chapter 14

Hopper yawns and leans his head back against the couch, eyes closing slowly. You wrinkle your nose at him even though he can’t see it and nudge his side.  
  
“Jim!” you say quietly. “You’re falling asleep.”  
  
“‘M not,” he protests, grabbing your hand and holding it against his chest so you can’t poke him anymore.

“You are!” you complain, wedging your body closer to his on the couch. You fling a leg over his lap and Hopper’s free hand drops to rest heavily on your thigh. “I thought you were going to watch Saturday Night Live with me?”  
  
Hopper yawns again and rolls his head so his cheek is resting on the back of the couch and he’s looking at you. He blinks lazily, “I’m sittin’ here, aren’t I?” His lips curl into a wry smirk and you lean forward to kiss it off of him. The hand on you thigh slides up to cup at the curve of your ass and you shift so you can straddle Hopper’s lap. He grins into your mouth and plants his other hand on your rib cage, thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. You lean into his touch and loop your arms around his neck. His cock is growing hard under your ass and you smirk.  
  
“You have to actively pay attention,” you mumble breathlessly when you pull away from the kiss. Hopper’s hands continue their exploration of your body, sliding under your t-shirt. You shiver against the feeling of his calloused fingertips pressing into your skin.  
  
“What if I actively pay attention to something else?” he suggests, pressing hot kisses down the column of your neck. His beard scratches your skin and you giggle at the sensation.  
  
“Aw, come on, Hop,” you sigh, “I never ask you for anything.”  
  
You feel his laugh against your skin before you hear it. His chest vibrates under yours and the puff of air against your overheated skin feels good. “Sweetheart, I can’t even believe you can say that with a straight face,” he teases, his voice a deep rumble against your collarbone.  
  
“I only make gentle suggestions,” you sniff, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging gently. Hopper lets out a low growl and bites a quick mark just below your collarbone - where it’ll be hidden by a sweater for work tomorrow. You sink further into him, his hardening cock pressing into the seam of your ass as you rock back and forth.  
  
“Gonna kill me,” he mutters against your skin.  
  
“Who’d I watch Saturday Night Live with then?” you retort, gasping as Hopper’s mouth dips under the loose neck of your old shirt to suck gently at your nipple. A low moan slips past your lips and your brain short circuits briefly.  
  
Hopper’s fingers gently knead into the tight muscles of your lower back, giving you a little massage even as he rocks his hips up into yours. The boxer shorts he’s wearing do nothing to disguise the feeling of the blunt head of his cock pressing into your core. You wiggle on his lap, desperate for some friction to ease the throbbing between your thighs.  
  
“Jim…” you whine his name, before sucking in a harsh breath when one of his hands plunges into your shorts, two thick fingers entering you without warning. “Oh!” you gasp, throwing your head back and giving his mouth easy access to press tiny, biting kisses to your neck.  
  
“Whatta ya want, baby?” he rasps, plunging his fingers in and out of you.  
  
“More,” you gasp, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as your hips work in time with his fingers. He curls his index finger inside of you and bumps against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “Jesus,” you mutter, dropping your head forward and resting your forehead against Hopper’s shoulder.  
  
“Come on, sweetheart, just a little more,” Hopper grins, encouraging you before adding a third finger.  
  
“Fuuuck,” you moan. You feel impossibly full with Hopper’s fingers and grind against them, heat coiling low in your stomach. He pumps in and out of you a few more times, fingers slick with your arousal. The sound his pumping fingers make as they plunge into you is nearly obscene and you’re briefly glad that El is staying at the Byers’ house tonight.  
  
The muscles in your body tense up and you grip Hopper’s biceps with bruising force as he plunges his fingers inside you again and curls them, sending you over the edge of a powerful orgasm. You ride the aftershocks with his fingers still inside of you and your body slumped over his chest. Hopper’s other hand idly twists into your hair.  
  
The opening notes of Saturday Night Live’s theme music play softly and you lift your head from Hopper’s shoulder.  
  
“Hey,” you accuse, poking him in the chest, “you tried to orgasm me out of wanting to watch my show!”  
  
Hopper’s eyebrows raise into his hairline. “Are you serious?” he asks, disbelief coloring his tone. He withdraws his fingers from you, wiping them on his boxers. “You’re complainin’ about sex now?”  
  
He shifts underneath you and you’re reminded that his erection hasn’t been dealt with. You wince a little, but frown. “I’m not complaining about sex, Jim! I’m complaining about the diversionary tactics you’re using to get out of watching a show with me,”  
  
“You’re crazy,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “I don’t get why you even care so much? S’not like this guy’s any good or anything.”  
  
“It’s not my fault you don’t like science fiction shows,” you retort, rolling off of his lap and landing back in your designated spot on the couch. Hopper grimaces at the loss of pressure, his hand almost immediately finding his cock and absentmindedly stroking at it. You nudge his hand away with your own and continue talking as you give him a hand job. “This is one of the most popular shows on TV! Everyone’s talking about it and having the main actor host Saturday Night Live is such a good gig for him.”  
  
Hopper’s cock twitches in your hand and he raises an eyebrow at you. “I see what you’re doin’ an’ I’m not gonna argue with ya,” he mutters, dropping his head back and enjoying the feel of your hand on his throbbing cock.  
  
“Good,” you grin cheekily. “Maybe you’ll even enjoy the show once you’re all relaxed.”  
  
“Doubt it,” Hopper retorts, cracking one eye open and looking at you sideways.  
  
You apply a little more pressure, even as the opening titles are starting, and Hopper inhales sharply. “Ah,” you chastise, “you have to be quiet. I don’t want to miss any of the monologue.”  
  
“Got a crush or somethin’?” Hopper rolls his eyes - in annoyance or pleasure, you’re not sure. But there’s definitely a tinge of jealously in his tone.  
  
“Only on you, baby,” you grin, pressing a sloppy kiss to his bearded cheek, “only on you.”  
  
Hopper winks lazily at you, curling one arm around your shoulders as you hand pumps him a little faster. He grunts at the speed, “Can’t believe I’m competin’ with some TV actor for your attention.”  
  
There’s no malice in his grumble and you giggle. “Oh, don’t be so whiny. Who’ve I got my hands on here?”  
  
You drift your thumb over the red, oversensitive head of his cock and Hopper groans. On the TV, the monologue gives way to the first commercial break and you quickly drop to your knees in front of the couch. Hopper looks down at you and before he can ask what you’re doing - even though it should be obvious - you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.  
  
“Fuck!” Hopper’s voice is strangled and his hands fly to grip the back of your head. You grin around his thick cock, sucking him down further. Hopper thrusts his hips up involuntarily, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat. You suppress a little gag and drool slides past your lips.  
  
“Sweetheart…” Hopper grunts, his balls tightening as you lick the underside of his cock.  
  
“Hmm?” you take him back in your mouth and hum around him, one hand holding onto his thigh and the other cupping his tensed balls. His hand tightens in your hair and you know he’s only a few seconds away from release. You suck harder on his cock, taking nearly all of him into your mouth and swallow, the force causing his cock head to hit against the roof of your mouth.  
  
Hopper comes with a strangled moan, hot cum filling your mouth. You gag a little as it hits the back of your throat, but swallow it down. Once his cock starts softening in your mouth and you know he’s spent, you release him with a ‘pop’ and wipe the drool and stray cum from your mouth, grinning at him winningly as you tuck him back into his boxers.  
  
“Feeling more relaxed?” you ask, crawling back up into the couch and draping your body over his. Hopper’s arms wrap around your body, heavy and warm, and you cuddle into his chest.  
  
“Jesus, sweetheart,” Hopper chuckles, “that was probably the fastest turn from a hand job to a blow job I’ve ever seen.”  
  
You wink and nod your head towards the TV, where the commercials are ending and Saturday Night Live is starting up again. “Gotta give my full attention to my other boyfriend for the next hour and a half,” you tease.  
  
“Brat,” Hopper mutters affectionately, pinching your ass. You swat his hand away and shush him.  
  
He, mercifully, remains silent so you can watch, chuckling a little when he finds a joke or skit particularly funny. You smile to yourself every time you feel his chest vibrate with laughter.  
  
“You know,” you observe quietly during the next commercial break, “you guys look a little similar.”  
  
Hopper scoffs under his breath. “That guy? No way. I don’t see it.”  
  
“Really!” you insist. “If he grew a beard or if you shaved….” you trail off, shrugging a bit.  
  
“Nah,” Hopper dismisses you. “I’m never shavin’ and besides, we don’t look alike at all.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” you pat his chest consolingly, “I still think you’re much more handsome.”  
  
He opens his mouth to respond, but the commercial ends and you shush him.  
  
With an eye roll, he catches who the main players are in the skit and mutters, “Another one of these Julia Dreyfus sketches? They gotta get rid of her - she’s not funny at all. That John Belushi, he was funny. Shame he died. Show hasn’t been the same since him.”  
  
“I knew you liked this show!” you shout triumphantly, wiggling in his arms to face him. “I didn’t even know you back when Belushi was on the show so you had to have watched it of your own free will!”  
  
“Aw, shaddup, will ya?” Hopper mutters, the tips of his ears going red.  
  
“No!” you bounce up on your knees and poke at his bicep. “Why do you always have to be so grumpy? How difficult would it have been to tell me you like the show and you’d watch with me?”  
  
“It’s alright,” Hopper drawls quietly, grabbing at your wrists again to stop your incessant poking. “I don’t watch all the time and I think most of ‘em aren’t as funny as they think they are.”  
  
You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. “You’re impossible, Jim Hopper!”  
  
He nudges your hip and juts his chin at the TV, “Your boyfriend’s back on.”  
  
You settle back against his chest and warn, “This isn’t over, Jim. I’ll get you to admit you like SNL.”  
  
His arms wrap around you again and you feel him rest his chin on the top of your head. “If they manage to make it a whole episode without tryin’ to make me think that Robert Downey Jr. is funny, I just might agree.”  
  
You wince at the mention of the cast’s most unfunny member. “I don’t know what they were thinking, hiring him. Poor thing’s never going to make it big. He’d be better off leaving Hollywood.”  
  
Hopper nods his agreement and you both lapse into a comfortable silence, punctuated every few minutes by laughter. The episode flies by and sure you enjoyed watching one of your favorite actors successfully host the show, but you enjoyed being wrapped comfortably in Hopper’s arms, laughing together, even more.


	15. Chapter 15

**[creedslove](https://creedslove.tumblr.com/) asked: Hey!! How about some angst? Hopper breaking up with reader out of jealousy or insecurity?**

ooh yes this would totally be hop! he’s insecure and jealous, which is legit a lethal combo!

  * it starts with the young cops and drivers flirting with you all the time
  * hopper’s not blind - he sees you smile and flirt back (even though it’s the best way to get out of a speeding ticket or free labor when you need something moved)
  * he doesn’t ask you about it, just gets quiet and broody and churlish (grunts and a constant scowl are his most used responses lately)
  * he’s already insecure about the age difference (doesn’t matter to you bc men your age are idiots) and his weight (also doesn’t matter to you bc hopper’s a fuckin’ snack at any weight)
  * the final straw is when billy hargrove starts making his move - flirting, touching your arm, shooting hopper a shit eating grin when you can’t help but offer up a small smile at one of the teen’s terrible pick-up lines (you would literally never date billy - forgetting the fact that he’s much younger, his general personality is shit)
  * hopper flips - yelling and waving his hands in the air and scowling darkly. you’re confused about his reaction until he shouts “we’re done, it’s over. i’m not putting up with your flirting and shit anymore”
  * “fine!” you shout back, hurt and angry tears filling your eyes. “you’re being a stupid, jealous piece of shit if you think i would ever cheat on you, jim hopper”
  * and you storm out of the cabin, leaving all of your stuff behind and making sure the door slams shut loudly behind you
  * hop almost immediately recognizes his mistake, but he’s a stubborn man and refuses to apologize. you’re just as stubborn and you maintain radio silence for months.
  * you avoid each other as best you can, despite joyce’s attempts to play mediator, despite eleven’s increasingly desperate calls to your house asking what went wrong, what she did wrong (which breaks your heart and makes you sob harder into your pillow)
  * hopper looks haggard the next time you accidentally run into him in the grocery store. he’s in the frozen foods aisle, boxes of eggos in his hands
  * he bumps your shoulder and neither of you realize it’s the other until he mutters a half-hearted apology and your own heart nearly stops in your chest
  * you must let out a strangled sort of noise because he looks up and it’s like he’s seen a ghost.
  * “y/n,” he says cautiously. “hi.”
  * you give him a small smile in return - fuck, you’ve missed his face, his handsome baby blues
  * he looks sad and tired and your heart cracks a bit and against your better judgment you say “think we could grab a coffee. i might, uh, maybe we could talk?”
  * and his stupidly handsome face lights up. “yeah?” he asks. “i, uh, i got some things i should probably say.” he’s sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck and your answering smile is warmer




	16. Chapter 16

**[creedslove](https://creedslove.tumblr.com/) asked: Thank you so much honey!!! It was amazing!!! If you are still accepting suggestions and in the mood for angst (sorry my nickname among my tumblr friends is angst whore LMAO) in which reader is pregnant with Jim's baby but he sorts of freaks out and she thinks he doesn't want them anymore? :(**

my pleasure!!! 😊😊 i’m definitely in an angsty mood with my anxiety kicking up so feel free to keep the ball rolling lol (hope you don’t mind the bullet point format bc that’s easiest for me rn!)

  * you know what your new reality is even before the three minutes is up (all the signs are there: vomiting at all hours of the day, bloating that doesn’t seem to go away, the absolute agonising pain in your breasts every time hopper gets even a little rough with them)
  * the little pink plus sign makes your stomach lurch unpleasantly and your head is in the toilet bowl before you can really process it
  * you’re pregnant
  * with jim hopper’s baby
  * and you have no idea how he’s going to react
  * (he’d told you about sara late one night, when el was being particularly teenager-y and all three of you had ended up in a screaming match)
  * (the loss weighs heavily on him and the near misses with el over the years only made him more paranoid, more prone to freaking out, more overprotective)
  * you’ve never broached the topic of children with him and you regret that now
  * normally you have a decent grasp on how hopper might react to something, but this? this is entirely new territory
  * you’re still not sure where you stand on the whole kid thing, but as time passes (and it takes you nearly three weeks to work up the nerve to tell him, so time definitely passes) you grow attached to the little life inside of you
  * (imagining it with hopper’s blue eyes and a tiny matching scowl does things to your heart that you’ve never experienced before)
  * el is out with her friends on the night you tell him - a strategic decision because you can’t have this conversation with her in the house
  * there’s no easy or graceful way to broach the subject so you blurt it out when hopper’s lips are marking a trail down the side of your neck
  * “i’m pregnant”
  * his mouth stops and he goes stock still. you can’t breathe.
  * “what?” he says quietly against your neck and his tone sounds a little dangerous
  * your stomach flips as you repeat yourself. “i’m pregnant”
  * hopper pulls away from you, leaning back and creating a gulf between your bodies that feels insurrmountable
  * his face is so hard to read (harder than usual)
  * normally bright eyes are dull and his moustache twitches in time with the tic of a muscle in his jaw
  * “jim…” you start quietly and then trail off, unsure
  * he scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head your heart drops to your feet as he pushes off the couch
  * “i can’t - i need - i’m -“ he jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the door, shoving his feet into unlaced boots and stalking off into the night
  * the door slams shut behind him and it echoes with a finality that has sobs wracking your body within seconds
  * he’s gone for hours and you curl up on the couch, succumbing to exhaustion after hour three with the gut punch of a realization that he may never come back and if he does, everything will be different
  * he does come back eventually and you jolt awake when the door clicks shut behind him
  * “jim?” your voice is hoarse from crying and you hope you don’t look as bad as you feel
  * “sorry,” he mutters, a haunted look in his eyes. your heart shatters - this is it. he’s done, it’s over.
  * “i know it’s not -“ you start to say, but he interrupts you
  * “needed a walk. to clear my head,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “shouldn’t have left like that.”
  * you don’t trust your voice
  * “s’not my place to tell you -“ his voice cracks a little, “tell you what to do with it. but…but if you…i’m here.”
  * you still don’t trust your voice
  * “didn’t think i’d do it again after sara. el came fully formed basically,” he huffs a wry laugh.
  * “you’re not leaving?” you squeak timidly
  * “nah,” he says, a one syllable answer that doesn’t match the tense set of his shoulders. “I wouldn’t.”
  * “i thought you might,” you say quietly
  * hopper snorts an angry breath through his nose. “thought i might too for a second there. but, it’s you. it’s our kid. i’m scared shitless, but you’re one of the most important things to me and a kid with your pain in the ass tendencies doesn’t sound so bad”
  * you’re crying now and it’s the hormones (it’s not the hormones - jim hopper is the most wonderful bastard of a man you’ve ever met)
  * “aw come on,” he mutters, uncomfortable with your tears
  * “get used to it,” you mumble through tears and snot
  * he drops down next to you on the couch and you hug him tightly, your baby growing in the space between you




	17. Chapter 17

**[creedslove](https://creedslove.tumblr.com/) asked: Awww honey!!! You are doing an amazing job! As a matter of fact, I love ALL your works!! If you could maybe one more headcanon, can it be reader being helplessly in love with Hop but him being too dumb to notice lmao just because he'd never think a girl like her would like him, so when he gets stood up, he finally realizes her feelings??? Thanks 💕**

thank you!! 🥰🥰 writing for hop has been such a fun and wonderful experience. so this one’s got a major age difference and it’s vaguely canon adjacent!

  * you’ve been halfway in love with jim hopper since you were an 18 year old coed and he was the 40 year old chief of police newly returned from nyc
  * he came to break up a frat party that had gotten way too out of hand and you took one look at the mountain of a man and decided that he was the one for you
  * of course he doesn’t notice you other than to shake his head at the company you’re keeping and to tell you to be smarter than to get busted with the drugs and alcohol you currently have in your underage possession
  * you clean up your act and graduate early, taking the inheritance you get from your grandmother and open a bakery right in the center of town
  * (that it’s conveniently located right next to the police station is entirely a coincidence)
  * hopper becomes a constant presence in your bakery, guzzling down coffee like his life depends on it and sometimes you think it just might
  * he looks older and more tired than he did four years ago when he broke up that house party and you wonder if it has anything to do with the rumors that have been plaguing the town for the past few years
  * you’re constantly touching him - his hand, his arm - laughing and flirting even though it doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere
  * hopper never asks about your life, not really, not for specifics but you always drop in the fact that you’re single or that you went on a terrible date over the weekend
  * he usually grunts in response to those bits of information, looking strangely panicky
  * one day you’re both entering your respective places of work at the same time, his blazer parked next to you camaro in the shared lot
  * “hey chief!” you wave, grinning widely, “come on over on your lunch break, i’ve been trying out some new recipes and i could use a taste tester”
  * “i’ll be there,” hopper replies warmly (or as warm as he gets) - you’ve learned that offering up sweets is a surefire way to get him into the bakery
  * “won’t even tell flo,” you promise with a wink and he laughs, shaking his head a bit at his nosy secretary’s actions (you smile privately to yourself just like you do every time you get a laugh out of hopper)
  * he’s stepping into the bakery at 1:40 that afternoon, the bell over the door tinkling and signalling his arrival. “so where’s this dessert i’ve been promised?” he asks, leaning casually on the countertop
  * “right here,” you slide a napkin in front of him “sort of like a jelly doughnut but with raspberry mousse inside and powdered sugar instead of coarser sugar”
  * he raises a skeptical eyebrow - you’re messing with a classic, the eyebrow says. but he takes a huge bite and wow, what you wouldn’t give to know what that mouth looks like open and buried between your legs
  * there’s powdered sugar clinging to his moustache and he hums in contentment. “s’good,” he mumbles around a mouthful of mousse
  * “glad you like it,” you reply reaching forward and brushing the powdered sugar off of his face with your fingers - the coarse hairs of his moustache prickle against your fingers and you involtarilt clench your thighs together
  * hopper pulls back a little, frowning and fuck - you overstepped, didn’t you?
  * he scratches the back of his neck. “actually. i was wondering. how…asking someone out, these days, how…”
  * your face flushes and your mind spins. is he actually asking you out? is this happening? play it cool
  * “um,” you say, “just ask? most girls just like a man that takes charge - time, place, i’ll pick you up, kind of thing.”
  * “good to know,” hopper replies and he finishes off the doughnut before saying goodbye and heading out.
  * “what the fuck?” you mutter to yourself once the door is closed behind him. maybe he’s just waiting for a bit so you don’t think he was too obvious?
  * and then at the end of the day, you watch hopper cross the street to melvald’s and your heart sinks
  * he’s only in there a few minutes, but he walks out with a big old smile on his handsome face and you know
  * of course
  * joyce byers
  * of course
  * she and hopper knew each other back in high school, they have history
  * you’re just a 22 year old with a crush on a man old enough to be your father.
  * of course
  * he probably just thinks of you as the harmless little girl that gives him free coffee and desserts
  * you could throw up
  * (you do throw up because you work yourself into such an emotional tailspin)
  * (no one said 22 year olds were rational)
  * monday morning rolls around and you could vomit again at the thought of seeing hopper all fresh from his date with joyce
  * you think about calling in sick but you’re the damn boss and if you don’t show up the bakery’s left to useless teenagers and so you trudge in, looking worse for the wear
  * hopper makes a grand entrance around 11:30 - this time the bell’s tinkling sounds ominous
  * “hi chief,” you greet him dully, none of your usual spark or excitement
  * “hi,” he replies, leaning his forearms against the counter. “so uh think i should probably tell you something.”
  * you raise an eyebrow - he sounds weird
  * “was stood up this weekend” and it looks physically painful for him to say that
  * “sorry to hear that,” you reply quietly, turning your back on him to busy yourself with cleaning the counter
  * “thing is,” he says “is that i talked to her after and she, uh, pointed out that maybe i asked the wrong woman on a date?”
  * “oh?”
  * “yeah. thing is. this girl i should’ve asked out, she’s outta my league”
  * “is she?” down hopes, get down!
  * “fuck yeah,” hopper replies earnestly. “gorgeous, smart, funny, young. the fuck would she want with an old fat fuck like me?”
  * you turn around and pinch your lips together to suppress a smile. “maybe she thinks you’re the handsomest man she’s ever seen and really wants to go out with you.”
  * “yeah?”
  * “yeah! fuck hop, i’ve been falling over your for years now.”
  * “yeah?”
  * “its a good thing you’re handsome.”
  * you slide him a coffee and a doughnut and he smiles.
  * “friday, 7pm? i’ll pick you up and we’ll see a movie?”
  * you beam at him in response




	18. Chapter 18

**Anonymous asked: Ok so in the spirit of the season head cannon for Hopper having to be at a Halloween party but then sees reader there in a sexy costume**

yes okay i love this prompt!

  * first of all, hopper hates halloween. he hates the mischief, the freaky shit that goes bump in the night, the way everyone else seems to love being spooked
  * (he’s seen more than enough freaky shit and been spooked by real live boogeymen and monsters to last a lifetime)
  * so when el comes home all excited that the wheeler’s are having a halloween party for the whole town (jesus fuck the whole town?) hopper’s immediate response is “no”
  * “no?”
  * “no.”
  * then the teen pokes her lower lip out in a pout and whines “mike’s gonna be there and dustin and will and lucas and max and i can’t be the only one not going”
  * and hopper sighs and scrubs a hand over his face and mutters a reluctant fine, but i’m not dressing up
  * el doesn’t give two shits about his lack of enthusiasm - she’s running off to grab the phone, likely to call max and discuss costume options
  * (god he hates halloween)
  * hopper absolutely does not dress up, but he does wear his uniform which could, technically, pass as a costume if he wanted
  * “gee, real creative, chief,” callahan laughs when he spots hopper in the wheeler’s living room
  * “fuck off callahan, or i’m puttin’ you on midnights” hopper growls and callahan suddenly needs to look at something on the other side of the house
  * hopper’s got a beer in his hand and is hiding in the corner when he spots you
  * “oh fuck” he mutters, gulping down a swig of lukewarm beer to help his suddenly dry throat
  * hopper’s not in a costume, but you sure as fuck are
  * you’ve loved halloween since you were a kid and as you got older it became an excuse to test the boundaries of what was acceptable to wear in public
  * tonight’s costume might get you cuffed for indecent exposure
  * you’re dressed, technically, as a witch but the scrap of fabric that makes up your costume is more revealing than a bathing suit practically
  * “hey chief,” you purr, suddenly materializing next to him. you smirk a little when his adam’s apple bobs up and down heavily
  * “what’re you supposed to be?” he asks, eyes scanning your body and lingering on the long expanse of exposed bare leg
  * you giggle “i’m a witch! couldn’t you tell?” you gesture to the pointy hat sitting at a jaunty angle on your head
  * hopper runs his tongue over the front of his teeth and grins a little wolfishly. “gonna put a spell on me?”
  * winking, you run a hand up his chest and against the side of his neck “oh chief? you’re already under my spell,” you reply lowly
  * hopper’s free hand ghosts up the side of your thigh, fingertips dancing around the dangerously short hem of your black dress. another few inches and his fingers could be in you
  * you press a little closer to him, his body heat warming you to the core
  * “and when did that happen?” he asks, blue eyes dark with lust
  * “oh,” you reply, looping your other hand around his neck and leaning close enough to feel the hard heat of his erection against your hip bone, “the moment you met me.”
  * hopper chuckles lowly and gulps back the last of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the side table. he dips his head to nip a kiss against the hollow of your throat
  * “lets get out of here,” he mutters against your skin
  * “you wanna trick or treat?” you ask innocently
  * “you show me a trick and i’ll give ya a treat,” hopper promises
  * you spin on your (high high) heel and keep hopper’s hand in yours as you saunter through the party, black fabric clinging to every curve of your body
  * (fuck, hopper loves halloween)




	19. Chapter 19

**Anonymous asked: Would you be willing to write a first date Hopper? Or maybe a meeting Hoppers parents one? I absolutely love your stuff and I hope the lawyering is going well! ♡**

hi! lawyering’s making me crazy but im enjoying it! this ask made me realize we know nothing about hopper’s parents and now i’m super curious about what they’re like!! here’s a couple of thoughts about them :)

  * hopper’s obviously in his mid-40s, so his parents are older
  * like mid-70s? early 80s?
  * you’re the first one to bring it up - floating the idea really casually as you’re laying in bed
  * “i dunno if you wanna meet them,” he winces “they’re not as charming as me”
  * you drop it for a bit and then you bring it up again curious about who raised hopper and what kind of dad he might be one day
  * he relents, but warns you that it might not be the greatest of meetings
  * jim’s parents are in an assisted living home about an hour north of hawkins
  * “havent visited them since before i went to new york” jim confesses about 15 minutes into the drive
  * “better late than never” you reply lightly, carefully holding the homemade coffee cake on your lap
  * the receptionist greets you both warmly and doesnt see the vice-like grip jim has on your hand
  * david and elaine hopper have a joint room with a window that looks out onto a little garden
  * they seem nice enough and you wonder about hopper’s nerves
  * elaine has jim’s same blue eyes when she looks up and she beams at her son. you look at your boyfriend and he looks tense
  * “hi ma,” he greets her, tone warm but hesitant
  * “jim! you brought diane, how lovely! and where’s little sara?” 
  * oh
  * your heart sinks at the pained look on jim’s face
  * “s’not diane, ma” jim says tightly, his jaw clenched
  * “Course she isnt,” his dad pipes up, his voice rough, “she looks like a teenager. did you find her at a playground, jim?”
  * “fuck dad,” jim grumbles, “she’s nearly 30.”
  * you open your mouth to defend yourself, but jim’s dad interrupts - “and you’re nearly 50, the fuck are you doing with a little girl like that?”
  * jim’s back teeth grind together so loud you can practically hear them turning to dust
  * “it’s so nice to meet you, mr. hopper,” you greet brightly, ignoring his animosity and holding out the coffee cake, “i brought dessert.”
  * “oh how lovely!” elaine beams, “come cut me a piece, diane.”
  * hopper lets out a strangled noise and your heart breaks for him
  * youre so sorry that you put him through this
  * you sit next to jim’s mom and slice her a piece of cake and she asks you all about sara, and you can’t manage to choke out any answers, but that doesnt seem to bother her
  * jim and his dad are talking in low, tense voices and you catch the occasional reference to your age and your stomach tenses
  * jim only manages another ten minutes before he’s tugging on your hand and dragging you out of the room
  * the car ride home is tense and quiet
  * “i’m sorry, jim” you murmur, brushing your fingers against his where they’re white-knuckling the steering wheel
  * “told you it wasn’t gonna be pleasant”




	20. Chapter 20

**Anonymous asked: Here's an idea for a Jim Hopper prompt - Hopper having a kink for a girl who wears red lipstick ❤️**

ooh okay real quick bc i love this!

  * hopper never realized what a turn on it was when you wore lipstick mostly because you stuck to light pinks and neutrals for day to day
  * until the red lipstick gets broken out for the holiday season
  * all of a sudden, he can’t stop looking at your mouth all painted red and lips looking full
  * you kiss him on the cheek in a greeting, gently rubbing at the red stain left on his cheek
  * “oops! this stuff stains everything” you shake your head “sorry, hop”
  * he doesn’t give a shit
  * all he wants to know is what your red lipsticked lips look like wrapped around his cock
  * he doesn’t have to wait long - by the end of the night you’re ripping each other’s clothes off and you leave kiss marks all over his chest and stomach as you make your way down to his cock
  * “fuck me” he mutters, nearly coming just from the sight of your lips around him
  * your lips turn up in a wicked grin and you suck him off, leaving faint lipstick stains around the base of his cock
  * the next morning there’s red lipstick smudged on his sheets, on his body, on your chin and hopper doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful
  * “fuck sweetheart, you gotta wear that red stuff more often”




	21. Chapter 21

**Anonymous asked: Fluffy head cannon. Hopper try’s to go big for his year anniversary because it’s been a while since he’s had one and he still can’t believe reader has stuck around**

but dumb romantic idiot hopper is my favorite

  * the anniversary sneaks up on him and technically he doesn’t even remember it - callahan and powell remind him
  * “can’t believe you made it a whole year with your girl, chief! we woulda thought she’d’be gone running ‘cause of your crankiness”
  * “oh fuck off,” hopper growls but then the implication settles in. you really had stuck around for a whole year
  * after diane, he’d never let anyone stick around for an hour, much less found someone to build a life with
  * he wants to do something for you, but he’s not sure what. good thing he’s got a whole week to plan
  * your anniversary dawns - a bright, crisp october day - and hopper’s gone before you’re awake, but he’s left a full pot of coffee on the stove and a box full (okay partially full - he and el needed to eat breakfast too!) of various pastries
  * you grin unashamedly as you enjoy a leisurely breakfast courtesy of your boyfriend
  * when you try to call him at the station to thank him, flo reports back with a “sorry, hon, he stepped out. but i’ll give him the message”
  * an hour after the phone call, a big bouquet of flowers shows up at work for you - nothing fancy, but the flowers are bright and beautiful and smell wonderful
  * (the little card attached just says “happy 1 year, baby. L, Jim”)
  * the goofy grin on your face is permanent - even if the card is simple, it’s more than enough to tell you how hopper feels
  * you don’t actually see jim until you get home later that night and the delicious scents emanating from the cabin give you a good hint as to what your next anniversary surprise is
  * “hi” you murmur, sneaking up behind jim at the stove and wrapping your arms around his waist. you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade.
  * “hi” he says back, chest rumbling under your hands “happy anniversary”
  * you giggle against his shirt “happy anniversary. you’ve gone all out today. i feel bad that i didn’t do the same”
  * hopper flips the burner off under the steaks and turns in your arms to face you. the look on his face is serious and earnest “don’t. i wanted you to know how much i love you for stayin’”
  * “where would i go?” you ask simply, a confused little frown on your face
  * hopper shrugs. “anywhere else. i know ‘m not an easy guy to live with…”
  * oh
  * you smile
  * “no, you’re definitely not,” you giggle. “but you’re very easy to love and i do.” you lean up on tip toes to kiss him gently. “love you, that is.”
  * “love you too” he whispers back, beard brushing against your cheek
  * you bite at your lower lip and your eyes twinkle mischievously “wanna see your gift now?”
  * hopper raises an eyebrow and you laugh brightly
  * “come on, hop,” you tug on his hand and lead him to the bedroom “i really think you’re gonna like this”
  * the steaks grow cold but they’re just fine warmed up and eaten in bed, the both of you naked and surrounded by the tiny scraps of lace and silk that hopper still doesn’t believe were sold as underthings




	22. Chapter 22

**Anonymous asked: Prompt: Hopper sees reader on a date and get jealous/thinks he lost his chance but the date goes bad and Hopper swoops in**

jealous hopper is the best!!

  * you really do not want to be on this date
  * but your southern manners had made an appearance and you’d said yes when david - a fireman - had asked you out
  * he had seemed like a lovely man, save for the fact that he wasn’t jim hopper
  * (damn crush on the gorgeous police chief ruining your entire life)
  * so here you are, sitting at a table in the ice cream parlour with david prattling on about…something (to be honest, you haven’t been listening)
  * the bell over the door chimes and you look up
  * the look on hopper’s face is devastating
  * of course you’d be on a date with a handsome young man, hopper thinks
  * his heart drops and he frowns - he’s old and fat, why would you go for him?
  * he watches as you draw your gaze back to david and your mouth pulls into a frown
  * hoppers eyebrows raise all the way to his hairline when you reach out and smack david -hard - across the cheek
  * the fireman jumps up, spitting curses and leaning towards you threateningly
  * and then hopper’s there - blocking you with his broad shoulders and scowling “whatever you said, she didn’t like it. take a hike”
  * the two men scowl at each other until david breaks first and stomps away
  * “thanks, chief” you say quietly when he turns to face you
  * he shrugs “just, uh, doin’ my job”
  * you look up at him and note the way the tips of his ears go red. you gesture to the vacated seat
  * “wanna make it so date night wasn’t actually a bust?” you say casually
  * with a wry grin, hopper drops into the seat
  * “so what’d the dumb bastard say?”




	23. Chapter 23

El and Winnie are long passed out on the couch and Mike’s yawning in the armchair, but he continues to flip through his book. The latest Stephen King - well, not exactly the latest since it had come out while they were doing battle with the Mind Flayer in the Starcourt, but Mike’s just getting around to reading it now - is well over 1,000 pages and it’s definitely a little freaky.

It’s maybe not the smartest move to read this horror novel in the dark while he and El are home alone babysitting Winnie, but after demogorgons and the Mind Flayer, nothing really scares them anymore. So Mike curls his lanky teenage body further into the armchair and keeps reading - trying to ignore the creaks the house makes as it settles.  
  
As Mike reads and the sisters sleep, the clock on the wall ticks closer to midnight. If Mike had been looking, he would’ve wondered what was taking Hopper and Y/n so long. Date nights usually didn’t last this long, but Winnie had been being a brat lately, so you and Hopper definitely needed a break.  
  
Totally absorbed in his book, Mike doesn’t hear the Blazer pull into the driveway.  
  
He flips another page, entirely too distracted by the Losers’ hijinks. Winnie lets out a childish little snore from the couch, startling Mike a bit.  
  
“Shit,” he mutters, looking around a little suspiciously. He squints into the dark and makes out two shapes on the couch. El’s still asleep - Winnie curled up on her chest like a little cat. “Okay, get a grip, Wheeler,” he mutters to himself and picks up his book again, calm and collected once more.  
  
Until a branch snaps outside.  
  
Mike yelps and jumps in the chair a bit. The book falls off his lap and onto the floor with a soft thud. He jumps to his feet and looks in the direction of the sound. Obviously the wall is in the way, but Mike squints at it as if he’s developed x-ray vision in the last four hours.  
  
He hasn’t.  
  
The doorknob rattles a little and Mike’s eyes go wide. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” he mutters, stumbling into the kitchen and looking around for a weapon. “Where the hell does y/n keep the knives?” he scowls, trying to search the drawers without making too much noise. When that turned up nothing, he snatches the frying pan off of the rack and holds it up like a baseball bat.  
  
Another few branches snap in quick succession and Mike snaps to attention, following the noise as it moves around the side of the house.  
  
The back door rattles and Mike drops into an offensive stance as the knob turns. The door creaks open and Mike lets out a yell, swinging the frying pan until he makes contact.  
  
“Jesus -! Fuckin’- ! WHEELER!” Hopper’s shouting fills the house and Mike steps back cursing up a storm himself. The frying pan clatters to the floor and Hopper’s holding his shoulder, still shouting.  
  
El comes running into the kitchen, sliding on socked feet as she tries to stop her momentum. Her eyes widen and she looks between her parents and her boyfriend.  
  
“Dad? Mike? Mom?” she shakes her head, blinking away sleep.  
  
You’re standing next to Hopper, gently trying to touch his shoulder. “Stay still. Jesus, Jim, stop moving, I want to see if we need to take you to the ER.”  
  
He growls in pain as your fingers gently probe his shoulder. “Fuckin’ hell, Wheeler. The fuck was that?”  
  
Mike shuffles his feet, embarrassed, “I was reading and I heard - and the snapping - and then the door. I got a little freaked out, I guess.”  
  
“A little?” Hopper raises an eyebrow and hisses as your fingers touch a particularly painful spot.  
  
El stands with her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you wake me up if you heard something?”  
  
“You and Winnie were asleep,” Mike defends himself. “I didn’t want to…I handled it.”  
  
You and Hopper just stare at him.  
  
“If Hopper had been an intruder, I would’ve handled it,” Mike yelps.  
  
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, kid,” Hopper sighs. He turns his neck to look at you, “What’s the verdict, nurse?”  
  
You shrug, “I’m no nurse, but it doesn’t seems broken or dislocated. I would feel better if we went for an x-ray though.”  
  
Hopper’s keeping his arm stiff and it’s obviously bothering him, so you’re not sure if there’s a chipped bone or something happening under the skin. He nods and eyes El and Mike. “Think you two can manage to watch Win for a little bit longer?”  
  
Mike nods silently. El pipes up, “I’m awake now. I’ll keep an eye out for intruders.” Her teasing tone sets a flush forming on Mike’s cheeks and he scowls a bit.  
  
Hopper rolls his eyes and snatches his house keys off the counter - the entire reason you’d had to enter through the rarely locked back door. You grasp his uninjured elbow and guide him to the door.  
  
“We shoulda gotten Harrington to babysit,” he mutters to you, just loud enough for Mike and El to hear him.  
  
Mike scowls at the door as it closes. “It’s not my fault Stephen King is the master of horror,” he defends himself.  
  
El just pats his arm sympathetically.


	24. Chapter 24

**Anonymous asked: Hopper trying to take readers mind off the very scary movie they just watched because they can’t sleep**

yeessss!!!

  * “jim”
  * you poke his side and whisper his name only to get a grunt in return
  * “jim i swear there’s something in this house”
  * “stop it an’ lemme sleep”
  * your eyes dart around the dark bedroom and you jump at the light thump that comes from the kitchen
  * “jim seriously!”
  * you knew watching that scary movie was a terrible idea
  * and now hopper’s asleep and you’re terrified out of your mind
  * “wake up” you kick his calf and he rolls over with a murderous look on his face
  * “there’s nothin’ in the house. go to sleep”
  * “no” you protest and curl up close to his body “distract me”
  * his arms wrap heavily around your body and he presses his face into the crook of your neck - his beard and moustache scratch your skin deliciously
  * you slip one leg in between his and feel him grow hard against your thigh
  * “why do i have to distract you when it was your idea to watch the movie?” he asks in between kissing and biting a little trail down your neck and over your collarbone
  * “because you’re a big strong man” you giggle, sliding your hand under the elastic of his boxers
  * he sucks in a breath as you wrap your hand around him, stroking gently
  * a rough hand slides under your shirt and palms your breast and you arch your back
  * hopper’s other hand rugs at the hem of your shirt, yanking it over your head and tossing it to the floor
  * you shiver a little at the sudden blast of cool air and press your bare chest into his
  * “come on then” he mutters into a kiss “i’ll distract you”
  * he flips you onto your back and you hook your legs around his waist, using your heels to nudge his boxers down to his ankles
  * his cock springs free and you grin widely when it presses against your core
  * “don’t wanna hear any more about ghosts and shit” he orders, plunging into you without warning
  * you gasp and adjust your body to his rhythm until you hear a thud
  * your mind immediately recalls the scary movie
  * and then there’s another thud and another and your fuzzy brain finally realizes that it’s the headboard smacking into the wall
  * hopper pounds you into the mattress hard and you grip his arms tightly
  * before you know it you’re both shouting incoherently and hopper’s collapsing on top of you in a sweaty heap
  * you press lazy kisses to his bare shoulder and hopper grins against your chest - probably thinking that he can finally get some sleep
  * and you’re both just dozing off when —
  * _scritch_
  * “jim! what the fuck was that noise?”




	25. Chapter 25

**Anonymous asked: If you’re still taking Halloween requests-reader trying to get Jim to wear a couples costume with them**

🥰🥰🥰

  * “please?”
  * “no”
  * “why not?”
  * “it’s stupid”
  * “is not”
  * you fight with jim over the couple costume starting on october 1st because you know it’s going to take that long to break him
  * “it’ll be easy! just black jeans and a black shirt and a leather jacket! you’ve already got all that”
  * you’d thought that going as johnny and baby from that new dirty dancing movie would be adorable
  * jim did not
  * “c’mon, sweetheart, y’know i’m not a fan of halloween”
  * “but we’ll be the only ones not dressed at the wheelers’ party”
  * hopper raised an eyebrow “we don’t hafta go then”
  * you pouted
  * “i won’t even make you dance at all”
  * “you wouldn’t have won that battle anyway”
  * he’s proving to be a tough nut to crack - it’s already october 24th and he’s still unconvinced
  * you buy the costume anyway
  * “this is the dress i’d wear”
  * it’s not a perfect replica of baby’s - yours is a little more gauzy, a little more see-through
  * (which is not a bad thing when it comes to convincing jim)
  * he eyes the costume thoughtfully
  * “all i’d have to wear is black?”
  * you cross your heart “swear! you saw the movie - johnny’s just as broody as you are”
  * in the end, you convince him and the party’s a success
  * (jim even twirls you on the floor once or twice, enjoying the way the skirt of your dress lifts dangerously)




	26. Chapter 26

**[nathandrakesass](https://nathandrakesass.tumblr.com/) asked: how ‘bout headcannons for spending halloween with hopper?? btw i love your blog 🎃🖤👻**

thank you!! 🥰 (i personally don’t believe christmas should start the day after halloween so i’m still in a spooky mood lol)

  * halloween with hopper definitely includes scary movies
  * you aren’t a huge fan of them, but you do like being able to cuddle up under jim’s arms and bury your face in his chest when you’re scared
  * he doesn’t decorate the cabin, but you do
  * fake cobwebs, jack o’lanterns, plastic spiders - the whole shebang
  * hopper grumbles every time he walks into a fake cobweb and threatens to throw it all out but you know he never will
  * he refuses to do a couples costume but is amused by your insistence on dressing up in elaborate costumes
  * (he really liked the year you dressed up as a mummy with very skimpy gauze covering your body)
  * candy! hopper totally goes overboard on buying candy considering you get very few trick or treaters
  * he says it’s because he wants to be prepared but you know it’s because he wants to eat it all himself
  * you love to bake holiday themed desserts and hopper is very happy to play taste tester
  * overall, halloween’s not necessarily hopper’s favorite holiday, but he’s happy to celebrate it because you love it




	27. Chapter 27

**Anonymous asked: Jealous Hopper headcannons**

(oops got a little busier at work than i anticipated!)

BUT

  * hopper’s a bear of a man on a good day
  * when he’s jealous?
  * he’s a miserable bastard
  * there’s dirty looks at the guy that’s flirting with you
  * snide comments
  * casual reminders that he’s the chief of police
  * (you roll your eyes when he’s like this because he has no reason to be jealous)
  * if he’s out in public with you and guys are looking, he makes it a point to grab your hand or wrap an arm around your shoulder
  * you’re a fan of the hand in your back pocket, squeezing your ass
  * if he’s had a bout of jealousy, sex that night is rough
  * there’s spanking and hair pulling and god knows how many hickeys he’s bitten into you skin
  * hopper makes sure you come at least three times, always reminding you “who makes you feel this good? who’s cock do you belong to?”
  * and jesus christ are the orgasms _good_
  * he always feels better the next day when you go out into the world with the purple bruises on your neck marking you as his
  * you still think he’s stupid, but hey, who are you to say no to some amazing sex




	28. Chapter 28

**Anonymous asked: God yes rough jealous sex with Hopper, love it! 🔥🔥🔥**

  * it’s absolutely the best sex
  * (sometimes - and you’re not proud of this - you’ll purposely flirt a little bit to get a rise out of hopper)
  * you know you’re in for it when his blue eyes go dark and his lips twitch down in a frown
  * hopper manhandles you onto the bed, lifting you and then dropping you like a sack of potatoes
  * he definitely rips a few pairs of panties in his haste to get them off of you
  * (he’s always good about replacing them though)
  * hopper’s jealous kisses are bruising and your lips are always swollen and chapped when he’s done
  * your neck and chest and stomach are covered in bite marks that purple into bruises overnight
  * normally it takes a bit for hopper to get hard again after one round, but not when he’s like this
  * it’s round after round after round of hard and fast thrusts, his hips pistoning into yours
  * your heels dig into his back to urge him on
  * the dirty talk is fantastic
  * when he’s done - and you’re nothing more than a limp rag of a person - hopper drapes his body over yours and mumbles “that’ll teach ya who you belong to”




	29. Chapter 29

You’ve never been more grateful for leftover Halloween candy in your life. The constant supply of chocolate is entirely necessary to maintaining your sanity, especially now that you’re three days overdue.  
  
“Hey, cool it with the chocolate,” Hopper says, coming around the side of the couch and handing your a glass of water. You take it and scowl at him.

“You’re absolutely not allowed to say shit about my candy intake, Jim Hopper,” you frown. “I’m the size of a house with *your* kid, and this chocolate is the only thing that makes me happy.”  
  
Hopper laughs. “Oh, it’s _my_ kid, now?”  
  
“Yeah,” you say, the unspoken “duh” lacing your tone. “Every time Baby Hop over here is annoying, it’s yours. I will, naturally, take credit for all of it’s achievements.”  
  
“Naturally,” Hopper repeats, sinking into his La-Z-Boy and cracking open a beer. “You feel any different? Any changes?”  
  
“No,” you grumble honestly. Your hands smooth over the giant swell of your stomach - the baby’s asleep now so at least you’re not getting kicked in the ribs constantly. “Had a little heartburn earlier, but nothing. I made it too comfy in there. Baby Hop’s never coming out.”  
  
You pout pitifully, shifting with a wince, and shove another couch pillow behind your lower back.  
  
Hopper laughs affectionately, “Honey, I think it’ll have to come out eventually. Didn’t the doc say first babies are late anyway?”  
  
You nod. “Mhm, but I’m so punctual, I thought that might influence it.”  
  
It’s stupid, you know, but a small part of you had hoped the baby would be on time, if not early. Your original due date had been Halloween and you weren’t entirely thrilled at that being the baby’s birthday. But now, here you were on November 3rd with no baby.  
  
“Don’t think that’s how it works, y/n,” Jim teases. He tilts his head at the clock hanging on the wall. “Still early, wanna put on a movie? Get your mind offa it?”  
  
Perking up a bit, you smile, “Gonna let me pick?”  
  
“I guess,” Jim sighs, “since you’re carryin’ my kid n’all.”  
  
He smiles at you though and you blow him a kiss. “Better get that Grease VHS because I’m in the mood to sing along,” you grin.  
  
Jim rolls his eyes, but gets up to snag the tape off of the shelf. He steps to the side and knocks on El’s bedroom door. It cracks open a few inches and Jim can see El sitting on her bed, textbook and notebook open next to her.  
  
“Y/n and I are gonna watch Grease,” he says. “You wanna join us?”  
  
El looks down at her notebook and then back up at Hopper. “Yes!” she says emphatically, bouncing off of the bed.  
  
“Hold up,” Hopper holds out a hand to stop her. “You finished with your homework?”  
  
“Yes, Dad,” she replies and you can hear all the teenage attitude from the couch. Smothering a small smile, you busy yourself with trying to get comfortable on the couch while making room for El.  
  
Hopper narrows his eyes at the teen. “Cool it with the attitude, kid.”  
  
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “Can I watch the movie?”  
  
“Yeah, alright,” Hopper shrugs. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, “Grab a snack and get comfy.”  
  
She beams and skips off to the kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets for a bag of chips. Hopper puts the tape in the VCR and sets everything up, flipping the lights off as El comes and settles into the couch. She tucks her body against yours, resting a hand on your stomach. “Is baby awake?” she asks, eyes lighting up.  
  
That’s been one of the best things about your pregnancy - getting to see El be excited about being a big sister. She’s a sweet girl, always asking questions and planning what she’s going to do with the baby when it arrives.  
  
“I don’t think so,” you reply. El’s smile falls a bit and you finish quickly, “But the movie might wake it up. I promise I’ll let you know if it starts kicking.”  
  
“Okay!” she’s satisfied by your answer and begins nibbling on her chips.  
  
“We ready?” Hopper asks, a soft look in his eyes as he watches your interaction. You and El nod and he presses play.

********  
  
John Travolta is singing about greased lightening when El pipes up.  
  
“Y/n, is baby going to explode out of you like in _Aliens_?”  
  
Both you and Hopper startle and look over at the teen. She blinks back.  
  
“What?” Hopper yelps. “When did you see _Aliens_?”  
  
“At the mall,” El answers. “Steve snuck us in.”  
  
“Harrington,” Hopper grumbles under his breath, a mutinous scowl on his face.  
  
You roll your eyes. “Oh, like they haven’t seen worse than _Aliens_. Calm down, Jim.” You pause, “The, uh, more important thing here is that no, the baby is not exploding out of me like in Aliens.”  
  
El peers at you, brows drawn together in confusion. “Ripley had an alien in her belly. You have Baby in your belly. Why won’t Baby explode out?”  
  
The thought of the baby exploding out of your stomach a la Aliens makes you a little nauseous. Hopper too, if the disgusted look on his face is any indication. You catch his eye and widen your own. He shrugs a little, helpless. El hadn’t really had questions about where babies came from when you first told her - karma was coming for you now that you had been lulled into a false sense of security.  
  
“Uh,” you tap lightly on your stomach with your fingertips, “so, Baby’s not exploding out of me. Um, something else happens and oh god, help me out here, Jim.”  
  
“Me?” he’s visibly panicked, eyes wide. “Hell no, y/n. I ain’t explainin’ that to our teenager.”  
  
El’s watching you bicker back and forth, rolling her eyes. “I will ask Max, if you two are so *weird* about it.”  
  
You wince - this is definitely a conversation you’re supposed to have with your kid, not let her go off and get potentially wrong information from other teenagers. “Hey, Janie,” you reach for her hand and hold it, “how about tomorrow you and I go for breakfast and I’ll answer any questions you have? It’s kinda late to get into all that stuff right now.”  
  
El shrugs. “Okay, can we get waffles?”  
  
Hopper’s sigh of relief is audible and you laugh, “Sure, baby. We can even get hot chocolate too.”  
  
“Yum!” El’s toothy grin is contagious and you smile back at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders when she resumes her spot against your side. You look over at Hopper and mouth ‘you owe me’ at him. He immediately looks back at the screen, pretending he didn’t see you.  
  
Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the movie too.

**********  
  
“I’m dead serious, Jim Hopper,” you say later, after El’s asleep and you and Hopper are getting ready for bed. “You owe me one.”  
  
“Sweetheart,” he laughs, pulling his shirt off and throwing it at the hamper in the corner of the room, “El doesn’t wanna get a sex talk from me any more than I wanna give her one.”  
  
“I don’t want to give her one either!” you exclaim, lowering yourself slowly to the mattress and curling up on your side. “I’m not qualified for this.”  
  
Hopper settles onto his side of the bed and pulls you close, “The kid trusts you. Just be honest with her? I dunno.”  
  
His hands find your stomach and rub in slow circles. “I hope this one’s a boy so you have to do the sex talk,” you grumble, relaxing into his touch.  
  
Kissing the back of your neck, Hopper mumbles, “I can handle that,” against your skin.  
  
A steady throbbing starts between your legs as Hopper continues to press kisses to your neck and shoulder. You hum and rub your thighs together. “S‘nice,” you say lowly, angling your ass back against his crotch.  
  
“Yeah?” he asks, brushing one hand lower and biting gently at your shoulder.  
  
“Mhm,” you sigh, covering his hand with yours to hold it in place right where you need it. “Jim?” you mumble his name.  
  
He grunts, pushing aside your panties with his fingers and slowly teasing you. You gasp and whine, heat pooling at your core.  
  
“The doctor said orgasms could start labor,” you breathe, desperate for more of him.  
  
“Yeah?” he asks, his free hand snaking up under your shirt and finding your breasts. He rolls your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, tugging gently. “You want one?”  
  
“Yes!” you gasp, arching against him before whining his name. Without warning, he plunges two thick fingers into you and you shout a curse. He chuckles lowly against your skin.  
  
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he mutters. “You want El walkin’ in on this?”  
  
You shake your head and feel his hot breath against your neck. “Good girl,” he whispers, steadily moving his fingers and and out of you. You drop your face into the pillow, muffling your moans while you clench around his fingers.  
  
“Come on, sweetheart,” he breathes against your ear, talking you closer to an orgasm. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers. You need more?”  
  
A needy whine escapes your lips and Hopper slides a third finger into you - nearly matching the satisfaction of being filled by his cock. Hopper starts a steady rhythm and it’s all you can do not to shriek his name in ecstasy. As best you can with your stomach, you grind into his fingers, breathing heavily. The hardness of his cock is hot against your ass and you rub up against it. He grunts into your hair, pressing a hot, wet kiss to the skin behind your ear.  
  
“Jim,” you mumble, biting down on your tongue so you don’t scream. “Faster, please.”  
  
“I know, sweetheart,” he says sweetly. “You’re doing so good. So beautiful. Come for me, baby.”  
  
He curls his fingers and plunges them into you hard and fast. You bury your face into the pillow and come with a muffled shout. Hopper’s fingers stay in you as you ride the orgasm, your body eventually slumping further into the mattress after the orgasm passes.  
  
“Oh, wow,” you mutter, blinking sleepily.  
  
With a laugh, Jim pulls his fingers away, wiping them off on a tissue grabbed from the bedside table. “You’re so gorgeous, honey,” he praises, running his hand down your side and leaning forward to kiss the corner of your mouth.  
  
You smirk, “If that wasn’t enough force to kick this baby out, I don’t know what will.”  
  
Jim opens his arms so you can cuddle up against him. “Could try my actual cock next,” he teases, smoothing a hand over your stomach.  
  
“I don’t wanna traumatize the kid before it’s even born!” you laugh, yawning.  
  
“Yeah, we’ll do plenty’a that once it’s here,” Jim grins. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Any luck an’ we’ll see a baby before end of day tomorrow.”  
  
“From your mouth to its tiny ears,” you mumble sleepily. closing your eyes and quickly falling into a deep sleep.  
  
“Hear that, kid,” Jim mutters in the direction of your stomach, “your mom, big sister an’ I wanna meet ya.”  
  
There’s a strong kick to his palm and Jim Hopper falls asleep with a broad smile on his face.


	30. Chapter 30

**Anonymous asked: not sure if you're taking prompts/requests, but i love your hop and was wondering if you could do some chubby hopper headcanons? cuddling up on the couch with that big bear of a man is just too good**

i’m ALWAYS taking prompts/requests!! i may not get to them right away, but i try to always do them 🥰

  * anyway, it’s no secret that hopper’s gained a little weight over the years
  * he’s a man in his mid-40s and he doesn’t have the healthiest diet or workout regime
  * hopper’s a little self-conscious about his weight, the gut he’s developed, and the little bit of a second chin that he can hide with a beard
  * but you don’t care at all
  * you love hopper at any size and hopper with a little more weight on him is wonderful when it starts to get cold
  * the cabin is toasty with a fire going and you always make sure to drag a thick, fleece blanket onto the couch
  * by now, hopper knows the drill
  * he’ll drop to the couch and lean his body against the arm and then drape his free arm over the back of the couch, creating a perfect cozy spot for you to cuddle into
  * your head fits perfectly against his chest, tucked under his arm
  * hopper always drops his arm around your back, holding you close
  * with the blanket wrapped snugly around your body you drape your arm over his stomach and play idly with the fabric of his shirt
  * in the beginning he hated you touching his stomach, feeling awkward that he was fat and soft
  * but the soft beat of his heart under your cheek and the rise and fall of his chest and stomach under your arms is so soothing
  * you fought against his stubbornness so you could be comfy
  * he’s like a hot water bottle - he radiates so much heat - so you’re never cold
  * hopper won’t admit it because it’ll ruin the image he has of himself as a tough guy, but he loves cuddling with you on the couch




End file.
